Simple Steps
by Mirror and Image
Summary: Galaxy changing events don't just suddenly occur. They are the result of a series of small steps. Now dealing with ROTS. Rated M to be safe.
1. Where There is Nothing

**Simple Steps**

Mirror and Image

**Where There's Nothing**

They were together in their isolation.

They were in the same Temple, the same apartment, for the first night they even shared the same room. But neither of them really, truly, understood how much they actually shared, because they were too alone to notice.

The younger lay in his new bed, staring up at nothing. The boy had been tossing and turning fitfully for several hours; he was exhausted but couldn't manage to stop the racing of his thoughts. He didn't know the words for it in Basic, but his Huttese didn't have the right adjectives for how he felt.

The core of it, the point of it, was that he had been ripped from the very fabric of his universe. For all his nine short years, everything he knew revolved around the hot sands of Tatooine and his mother. Life was about the droids and the races and sneaking out with his friends and getting scolded by his mother after. It was about being yelled at when he lost a race but always racing again and his mother's concern and her smiles and hugs and words of encouragement even when she worried over him. It was about making her smile in any way he could and apologizing when he made her angry; about stealing water for her to drink or trading parts in other shops to work on his protocol droid so she wouldn't do so much work.

The world he was in now was foreign, alien, like nothing he had ever expected. He didn't regret it - not in the slightest. The promise of going out and seeing new worlds, the adventure and the excitement, adrenaline that could surpass what he got from the pod races. But now that he was _on_ a foreign world, he had yet to experience the adventure.

As soon as he arrived at the Temple, everything was different. There was a _schedule_, tighter and more meticulous than anything Watto had ever made him do. There were classes and make-up work and lessons and mealtimes that had _so much food_ and _water was everywhere_ - they thought it was as plentiful as sand it seemed, and they used it for the oddest things - like _washing hands_. There were parts of it that he loved, the learning certainly, the luxury of having a sleep-couch and not a pallet; but equally so there were parts that he could not stand.

First and foremost were the people. Nobody seemed to know what to make of him, neither adults nor the other younglings. The teachers all seemed to think he was supposed to be a natural - after all, if he came to them so _old_ then surely he must be a genius and catch up on everything so quickly - and they were always disappointed when he said or did something that they thought were stupid, their lips pressing into thin lines or eyes lidded in disapproval. Surely a boy that was the _Chosen One_ would have more: more ability, more talent, more adaptability, more _something_.

The kids were just as bad. He was New and Different, he didn't come from a creche which meant he didn't belong anywhere, which meant he didn't Fit In, which meant no one would give him the time of day. That might have been bad enough, a creature ignored by his peers, except he couldn't be anonymous. _Everyone_ knew who he was, and they all glared at him in jealousy as soon as a teacher would call his name or if he answered a question (miraculously) right. They were jealous of him, though why he couldn't even begin to comprehend. And so they snubbed him.

It had never happened to him before. He didn't know what he was supposed to do.

His mother wasn't there to help him.

He pressed his hands to his eyes and rolled over, trying again to fall asleep. He would be doing so much better at adjusting to this new life if he only had his mother. She made everything better. She taped his cuts and combed his hair and whispered encouragement whenever he needed it.

But she had been left behind.

His world had been left behind, for she was his world.

He had many nights, this being on of them, where he wondered if the promise of adventure was worth what he'd sacrificed. As it was, he didn't even know how to go about getting her back. The Jedi seemed to have all kinds of money, surely it wouldn't even be a drop in the bucket to pay for his mother's freedom, but every time he asked everyone started radiating disapproval, and he couldn't figure out why, because no one would explain it to him.

It made him angry when people didn't listen to him. It made him lonely. It made him feel insignificant.

It made him feel isolated.

The other boy in the apartment, he was technically a man but he had yet to feel like one. He did not turn fitfully in his bed; he sat perfectly still, but his mind would not let him sleep. Meditation did nothing, he could not silence his thoughts enough to even slow his breathing.

Life was busy since returning from Naboo. There seemed to be hundreds of things that needed to be done: placement tests and physicals and immunizations for his new charge, Family Service papers to be filled out that were overly complicated because of the fact that the mother was a slave and didn't have the rights (nor even the presence being on the far-flung planet of Tatooine) to sign what was necessary, classes on how to be a new Knight, classes on how to handle a new Padawan, meetings with the Council... it felt like there was no time to himself to deal with it all.

"It" being the utter destruction of the world as he knew it.

His Master was dead.

He had dealt with death before, the death of his Master's former Padawan, the death of his rival, a list that was surprisingly long despite his young age. He'd learned how to work past it, but it was always _with_ his Master, guiding him through the meditations, placing an enormous hand on his shoulder and squeezing when he was overwrought. His master had been there for all the milestones of his teen years, helped him through everything, taught him everything, showed him everything.

And now he was dead.

The first night back had been almost unbearable. The nameplate on the apartments hadn't been changed, and when he stepped in he realized that he would, technically, be sleeping in his Master's room now. It was everything he could to do keep himself together, and even then he and his new charge could only sit on the couch and, in emotional exhaustion, fall asleep there.

He had no idea what to do with his Master's loss. There was so much anger and sadness and despair and despondency; self-loathing at how close he had come to the Dark Side when he faced Maul, fear that he would do it again. He knew these emotions were dangerous, he knew that they needed to be cast off but they wouldn't let go, no matter how much he meditated. The surrealism of being back at the Temple did not help. Everything was the same, and yet so utterly different. There was the diner his master always brought him to, the people they talked to and joked with, only now there was no tall figure next to him, no deep laugh or sharp eyes. Over there were the lightsaber training rooms, only now instead of being instructed he was expected to do the instructing - the Great Sith Slayer surely had a trick or two to teach the wide-eyed youngling. Here were the classes he took as an Initiate, but he was no longer a student, indeed, he was a Master of a Padawan, and he hadn't the faintest clue on what to do.

His master should have been there to help him through the transition.

But he was dead.

In point of fact, no one seemed to want to help him. No, he corrected himself, his friends, Bant and Garen, wanted to help him, but they were still Padawans themselves, having no idea what to offer him. The Council made it very clear that they would not help him, and that he was on his own. Other Knights seemed to think he had it all under control, patting him on the back and saying what a great job he did with the Sith and that his Master would be proud.

He kept his mouth firmly closed when that happened; if he didn't he was sure his wails would be heard from the other side of Coruscant.

He was _mourning_. He was _grieving_. Yet he knew that these were frivolous feelings, born of attachment to his master - another failure he had procured in a seemingly endless list - and should be released to the Force.

If only it were that _easy_.

He sighed and took another deep breath, trying in vain to center himself.

On top of all of this, he had a new charge, a boy to take care of and train in the ways of the Force. He had no idea what to do and it felt like every decision he had to make in terms of the boy was yet another life-charting course, and with his compass dead he had no idea if he was heading to the center of the galaxy or off into a black hole. He could not even use his own experience as a guidepost, because he had been a typical crèche-raised youngling. He did not know the trials of slavery or how the boy saw things that to him were ingrained. The boy asked the strangest questions and he was often hard pressed to give an answer - the one that initially sprang to mind was one for those who knew the culture of the Temple, and he was left floundering to explain principals that were so obvious to him but completely foreign to his new charge.

Again, he needed a compass.

Again, he was reminded that his compass was dead. He had to become his own compass.

He had no idea how to do that.

It made him feel upset. It made him feel lost.

It made him feel isolated.

For those first three months, both boys felt completely alone in the galaxy. Neither even considered that the other person sharing the apartment might have a clue what they were experiencing. It never occurred to either of them that they were, in fact, together in their isolation.

And because they shared in it, they were not alone.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Ooookay, what to say. We've been puttering around Star Wars fanfiction for a while, and we've seen, er, _one or two_ fics that try to change the events of Mustafar and take a sharp right turn at some point before or during that fight. While we love these fic and eat them up rather voraciously, we've found that you can't just "fix" the Ani-Obi relationship that quickly. Things have been breaking for a while, and by then it's too far gone to be fixed. The changes, we realized, needed to start a lot earlier; and not in massive story-altering events, but in small nudges that strengthen their bond to a point where Palpatine may influence it, but he can't break it like he succeeded in doing.

That realization came to the birth of this fic. Having said that, we're not completely sure how this is going to work. For now we want to keep it as a series of drabbles, peeks into their lives as we do small things to develop and then strengthen their bond. I imagine this will take place in three arcs. The first series being the first three years of Anakin's apprenticeship, before he's ready to go out on missions when he's just training in the Temple. The second arc would in theory take place right after the second movie, during the Clone Wars. The third, if we're egotistical enough to even try it, would be during the third movie itself.

Hopefully it works.


	2. Where Darkness Sticks

**Where Darkness Sticks**

It was almost a month after he'd arrived at the Temple that Anakin was finally fed up. Four weeks. Four _weeks_ he'd been there and while he still struggled with almost every class he was in, he'd learned a lot.

For example, Jedi didn't meditate anywhere _near_ as much as his Master.

Seriously, what was so great about it? Every single time Anakin turned around, Master Obi-Wan was sitting on the floor, eyes closed, and focused. A boy wondered after a while if Obi-Wan was merely sleep deprived for some strange reason. He'd find his Master meditating in the rare mornings where Anakin didn't need his Master to wake him; he'd come back from classes to find Obi-Wan meditating, after dinner was more meditation, and once, when Anakin had woken up in the night to use the refesher, he'd found his Master meditating.

What was up with that? _Why_ did Obi-Wan need to meditate so _damn_ much?

Anakin had originally thought it normal until he started to really _look_ around the Temple. Other Jedi, be they Knights, Masters, Council members, whatever, wouldn't meditate as much as Obi-Wan did. Jedi would spar, teach, learn, go out on missions, they even did _normal_ things: like having meals together at the cafeteria and just talking. Socializing. You know, _interacting with others_? Yet Obi-Wan didn't, as far as Anakin could see. He just meditated.

No, that wasn't quite true. In those first two weeks, Jedi Anakin assumed to be Obi-Wan's friends would drop by, but they didn't do so as much any more. Not that Anakin could blame them for that, given that all Obi-Wan seemed to do was commune with the Force. (And _how_ did one do that again? Anakin _still_ couldn't touch the Force whenever he tried to meditate...)

So Anakin was a little fed up. And mostly, a little lonely. Because if Obi-Wan was meditating so much, didn't that also mean that he didn't want to spend time with his new Padawan? And Anakin was starting to get scared that maybe his Master didn't like him and that's why he retreated even being in the same room.

They were currently sitting at dinner. The only time they ever really talked, and it was usually limited to polite inquiries about each other's day.

"Master?" Anakin asked, courage already fading fast.

"Yes, Padawan?" Obi-Wan didn't even look up from his datapad.

Anger flared. Anakin was at _least_ worth looking at, thank you very much!

"Why, Master?" he growled.

At last, his Master looked at him, a brow raised.

"Padawan?"

"_Why_ Master?" And anger was quickly replaced with pain and sorrow. "Have I done something wrong? Did I mess up somehow? Is that why?"

Obi-Wan blinked, setting aside his datapad and looking at him directly in the eye.

"Anakin," he said precisely, "I do not understand what you are asking."

And there wasn't even any _feeling_ in those words.

Anakin was acting the most out of control since he'd arrived, surely Master Obi-Wan should feel concerned? Worried? But there was _nothing_. "Why? Why are you always meditating? Am I boring? Am I a bad apprentice? Did I-"

A hand settled on his shoulder, and Anakin saw something flash across his Master's face; something so fast he couldn't identify it. And Anakin realized he was crying.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said quietly, and there was _grief_ in that voice. "I'm sorry, Anakin." No more feeling. "I... Come with me for a moment."

He swiped furiously at his eyes, rubbing the tears away, following his Master to the common room. Anakin sat down where he usually did on the couch, right in the corner where he was surround by worn, plush, softness. Obi-Wan, however, didn't sit where he usually sat in the matching armchair. He sat on the other side of the couch, facing him.

Things were quiet for a moment as Anakin struggled to get his roiling emotions under control.

Finally Obi-Wan let out a sigh.

"It seems I owe you both an apology and an explanation." And his Master slumped forward, his head in his hands, shoulders drooped as if weighed down by the galaxy. "Forgive me, this will take a different explanation than what I'd say to a fellow Jedi. You just don't have enough foundation yet and I need to think of a different way to say something most Jedi can actually see."

Anger flared.

"That's not _my fault_!" he cried out. He was trying so _hard_; he didn't need another reminder of how far behind he was.

"No, it's not," Obi-Wan agreed.

Anakin slouched further back, anger gone as fast as it had come. His Master wasn't pointing out how far behind he was. He was trying to accommodate. Which was more than his other teachers did. And that felt good. But this still wasn't answering his question.

"Anakin, when you where with... Qui-Go... before you and I met, you remember the creature that attacked you?"

He nodded, uncertain what that had to do with anything.

"What did that creature feel like?"

... _Huh?_

That question made no sense. This line of conversation made no sense. But Master Obi-Wan said he had to explain something that most Jedi can _see_. Anakin decided to follow the line of questions. At least for a little bit.

"Scared. Very, very scared."

"Why?"

Anakin scowled as his Master looked up to him. "He was _scary_!" Anakin stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He was all dark and shadowy and... and... _wrong_! Just _wrong_!"

"Precisely."

That brought Anakin up short. "Huh?"

"You may not have been able to see it, and you didn't recognize it without any training, but you _did_ sense it. That was the Dark Side. Beings that reach for the Dark Side always have that, _wrongness_, as you so aptly put it."

"Uh-huh."

Obi-Wan let out a sigh. "When the Dark Side touches you, it will _not_ let go easily. It sticks and clings."

That sounded an awful lot like some of his lessons. But...

"Master, what does that have to do with you meditating?"

"I'm getting there." Another sigh, and Obi-Wan dropped his face to his hands again. "When I faced that creature... when... Qui-Gon was... The best way I can phrase it is that the Dark Side came very, very close to me. And I came very, very close to touching it."

"Wait, so you used the Dark Side?" Anakin shrank back, horrified. His Master was _evil_?

"No, Anakin, I didn't. But rather like a krayt dragon hunting out new prey, the Dark Side got my scent. And it has stuck and clung to me. I meditate so much because I'm trying to clean off that scent so that the Dark Side won't catch me again." A long sigh. "I haven't been giving you the proper time you deserve because of that. I worry that if I try and help you when I'm not ready yet, I'll pass the scent off to you."

Anakin's jaw dropped. So all that meditating, essentially ignoring him, was for his own good? That _so_ didn't make sense.

"I promise Anakin, when you can meditate properly, at least into the first stages, I will show you what I'm doing. But for now, please trust that I'm not deliberately trying to hurt you. If anything, I'm trying very hard _not_ to."

**

* * *

Author's Note**: Hmmm, this was meant as a getting-to-the-point conversation for a different drabble, but looking at it, it stands on its own very well. Obi-Wan has to know that Anakin didn't grow up as a Jedi and thus requires some different explanations because he just doesn't have the foundation. He needs to adjust what he'd teach a regular Padawan to his late-arriving Padawan. We'd imagine a regular youngling could probably understand a basic statement about cleansing out some Darkness, but Anakin wouldn't. He can touch the Force in ways no one can believe given he doesn't have any training, but the more controlled means like meditation are going to take active little Anakin _time_ to get there.

This also touches on a point Yesac made in _The Finer Shades of Why_ (go read that fic), where Obi-Wan explained to Anakin that, thank-you, he'd lost Qui-Gon and that the Darkness doesn't let go easily, so _of course_ he'd understand what Anakin had done when his mother was killed. It's a subtle change from canon. But then, that's what this fic is all about. ^_^

Oh, and for those of you curious (and impatient) for more drabbles, we have a couple of things to say. First, we update every other Saturday. Saturdays are kind of our "fanfiction" day. So today we post, next Saturday, we reply to reviews, and the Saturday after that we post again, repeating the cycle. For those of you _still_ impatient, you can see some unfinished drabbles over at our livejournal page: http:/ mirrorandimage . livejournal . com along with various doodles and wallpapers and other stuff that we do. (We call this story _Subtle Changes_ instead of _Simple Steps_ at livejournal.)

We're also looking for a beta for this story of ours. Not a beta for grammar, we have that pretty well down, but for the Expanded Universe, seeing as how we only know the movies and the Clone Wars CG show. Wookieepdia is our friend, but we always worry that just looking something up might leave out some quality that is part of the scene/battle/information we're looking for. We do _try_ to be accurate, even as we're changing things slowly and steadily to a different Episode III.

Next Chapter: The Force as a learning strategy.


	3. Where Bonding Begins

**Where Bonding Begins**

The first week of the fourth month, Obi-Wan came out of meditation to see Anakin sitting across from him in the apartment. Instead of sitting in his corner of the couch he was sitting on the floor, opposite him at the low table, doing his crèche-work. There were easily half a dozen datapads spread across the table, with twice as many archive chips, scraps of paper with half written bits of things, the start of some kind of model; and Anakin, sitting in the middle of it, pouring over one of the datapads and rubbing his forehead, frowning in deep concentration.

Obi-Wan frowned himself, casting his mind back to when he was Anakin's age. Did he ever have _that_ much work to do? Certainly it always felt like it but... He reached up to tug at a braid that was no longer there and tried to factor in the make up work that the boy had to do.

It was at this point that he realized something horrible. He had _no idea_ how far along Anakin was in his learning. He didn't know who his teachers were, how far he had come along in his placement, how he was adapting to his new life. Star's End, he hadn't even done any _teaching_!

What kind of a Master was he?

What king of example was he setting?

He felt a sting deep in his heart. Qui-Gon would be deeply disappointed in him.

The hurt overwhelmed him all over again, and he almost retreated back into meditation to deal with it - but he understood somehow that that was an escape, and he fought against the urge. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and acknowledged the guilt he felt. It was deep, it hurt, but it was something that was easily rectified. When he realized that, he released a deep breath; and a new emotion assaulted him: anxiety.

When had he last had a conversation with is Padawan?

He threw the feeling into the Force with as much vehemence as he could muster.

It didn't work. But he opened his mouth anyway.

"How is the crèche-work coming?" he asked slowly, lightly.

Anakin's gaze flicked up to him, and then flicked back to the datapad without even a hint of response.

He tried again. "Anakin, how is the crèche-work coming along? Do you need any help?"

"I _need_ to get it _done_," the boy hissed. The unspoken additive: _It's not like you're going to help_, went unsaid, but one did not need the Force to see it roiling off him.

That hurt, much more than Obi-Wan expected to, but probably deserved and so he kept a calm face and tried a different tactic.

"You know," he said slowly, reaching up again to tug at a braid that no longer existed. He settled for rubbing his chin instead. "When I was your age I was in the top fifteen percent of my clan."

The blond boy stared at him, his eyes wide and his mind calculating. His gaze narrowed shrewdly as he suddenly started sorting through his pile of work. "Here," he said, handing him certain datapads and archive chips. The Jedi looked at the work blankly. Diplomacy, Force Theory, Literature, Social Networking, and Species Characteristics and Traits. He flipped through the material at first, seeing how much Anakin had and hadn't done. The boy was a terrible speller, and his sentence structure was equally poor; Obi-Wan knew for a fact the child was much more articulate than this. When he looked up, however he saw Anakin was once more pouring over his original work.

"Anakin? What were your questions on these assignments?" the Jedi asked, uncertain where he was supposed to start.

Anakin stared at him blankly. "I thought you said you knew this stuff," he said, his voice accusatory.

"Yes, I do."

"Then you shouldn't have a problem doing it," the blond replied matter-of-factly.

...

... ...

He would not choke. He absolutely would _not_ choke at the very _idea_ that the boy had just _suggested_! Of all the...!

"Anakin!" he admonished, his voice higher and tighter than what he wanted. "I'm not going to do the work _for_ you!"

Anakin, however, seemed to have had enough. He slammed the datapad onto the low table and growled, "I thought you just said you were going to help me!"

"I am most certainly not going to help you _cheat!_ The very idea-"

"It needs to get _done!_" Anakin shouted, his voice infinitely louder than Obi-Wan's, overriding his chastisement. "It's already late as it is and there's just _so much_ of it!"

"Already late? When was all this due?" Star's End, how badly had he been failing Anakin?

"_Over a week ago!_" Anakin all but screamed. "I don't have _time_ for this!" he grabbed a fistful of his work and stormed out of the common room, down the tiny hall and into his room, kicking the door repeatedly after it had slid shut to release his anger.

Obi-Wan sat, bits of crèche-work still cluttering the table, wondering just what had happened. What had he done wrong? Resisting the urge to put his head in his hands he opted instead to close his eyes and reflect. He mentally replayed the conversation and, at first glance, did not understand how things had occurred as they did. He tried to shift his perception; instead replaying the events from what he thought would be Anakin's point of view. That took him a minute to filter through; he was reminded (yet again) that Anakin was not raised in the crèche; he didn't grow up being taught that cheating on crèche-work was bad. That thought made him realize that Anakin's education up to this point must have been splotchy at best. The young Jedi had never met Anakin's mother, but the account from Qui-Gon and the myriad stories from the boy himself she tried her best in all her circumstances. Obi-Wan suddenly wondered if young Anakin actually knew how to _learn_; not how to absorb information you liked and filing it away, but to struggle against something that was difficult and annoying and seemingly impossible and, eventually, finding the answer with deep satisfaction.

No, Obi-Wan decided, the child most likely did not know how to learn. The blond took what he needed and discarded what he didn't; that in itself was a kind of learning, but it limited him in some ways, prevented him from the well-rounded education he was now receiving.

Understanding settled into Obi-Wan's heart, and he opened his eyes in resolve. If Anakin's education was incomplete, then of course he would be having difficulty with the placement work and backlog that he was currently facing. The first thing that needed to be done was, in fact, assess what he _did_ know.

He should have done this so much sooner.

He kept that sting locked away for a later date.

Quickly the Jedi gathered up the work and strode to the boy's room, knocking politely and announcing himself before coming in. Anakin was again sprawled on the floor, his preferred position it looked like, and furiously scribbling at a datapad. As before, he did not acknowledge his master.

Obi-Wan walked into the room and cleared a space directly in front of Anakin in order to sit down. Once he was situated comfortably on the floor, he put his hand over the child's stylus.

He looked up in anger. "I _said-_" he started to shout, but Obi-Wan put a hand over the boy's mouth and gently said, "Quiet."

"No! You don't understand!"

"_Yes,_ I do," Obi-Wan said, his voice almost a whisper, but it still reached Anakin's ear, stilling him in surprise. "I think," the Jedi said softly, "that the two of us have been going about this slightly wrong."

Sensing he had Anakin's attention, he leaned back and gestured at all the crèche-work. "You are perfectly right; all of this needs to get done. But, what you have wrong," and with a wave of the Force, the pile of 'pads and chips and projects were brushed away, "is that that it doesn't need to 'get done.'"

"That doesn't make _any_ sense!" Anakin growled.

"Let me explain," Obi-Wan said, raising a hand to forestall another round of shouting. "The reason teachers give crèche-work is because it is part of the learning process. They show you something, they guide you in practice, and then you are supposed to take what you've been shown and learn to do it yourself. A Jedi is self-sufficient. Crèche-work isn't about 'getting it done' or even 'getting the right answer,' it's about _learning_."

Anakin stared at him.

"So," Obi-Wan said, slapping a hand lightly on his knee. "I am going to talk to your teachers tomorrow and tell them to extend their deadlines." The hopeful look in Anakin's eyes suddenly became very bright, and one did not need the Force to sense the relief. "In exchange for this, the work you turn in is going to be top notch, because you are gong to learn it _thoroughly_." Anakin's hope was crushed. "The first thing we need to do," Obi-Wan continued, not acknowledging Anakin's expressions, "is to ascertain what's happening to make the work so hard for you; because I know you are much more capable than _this,_" and he held up the datapad that showed the boy's horrible spelling and sentence structure.

Anakin's face turned bright red, but he said absolutely nothing.

Obi-Wan kept his face neutral, even though inside he was frowning. Had he done something wrong again? He was expressing his desire to help Anakin, offering himself. He couldn't know what to do unless Anakin asked a question. Was he not clear enough? The Jedi started to open his mouth when Anakin burst out,

"_I can't read it!_"

"... What?" Obi-Wan asked, fighting not to gape but unable to raise an eyebrow in utter confusion.

"I can't read Basic, alright?" the boy growled, pulling his knees up like a makeshift barrier. "Everything on Tatooine was in Huttese and anything I could find in Basic were technical manuals for the pods or the droids. So. I. Can't. Read. It." He thrust his chin up, as if daring Obi-Wan to laugh.

Obi-Wan blinked at first, taking the time to process the information and waiting to see if there was anything else. When he realized there wasn't he let out an unexpectedly large breath and said, "Stars, Anakin, was _that_ all?"

"And what does _that_ mean?" Anakin demanded, immediately defensive.

"Just that for Jedi it is a - relatively - easy fix," he said, putting aside the 'pad he had been using and looking through the heap for the literature datapad. "First things first, do you have the Basic alphabet memorized?"

"... Yes..." the boy said slowly, hesitantly.

"Good. And do you have the phonetics memorized as well?"

"The what?"

"The phonetics. The sounds each letter represents. Do you know them?"

"_Yes_, I _do._"

"Then the work is half done," Obi-Wan said, pulling out what he needed. By way of explanation he continued, "One does not travel with Master Qu -" he faltered briefly, but closed his eyes to shake it off before continuing. "Master Qui-Gon without picking up a few things. There was one mission where we were mediating with two political parties of a planet. The treaties and laws were in two different languages, and we had to read over all of them as an objective eye - among other things." He found the datapad he was looking for and turned his gaze to Anakin. "Open the bond and I can give you a hand."

The boy was openly curious now, his mercurial attitude having shifted again. "Okay, sure. But how do you open the bond?"

Obi-Wan froze, realizing that in their over three months of being together they had never used the bond for anything, even simple meditation. He hurt all over again and a particularly loud corner of his mind wondered if he would ever _stop_, but he fought to throw it all aside. He would do what was necessary. He would. For Qui-Gon's sake. Obi-Wan slowly took Anakin through the steps of opening the bond, explaining as he did that with practice this would become instinctual, and when he felt the connection to the boy he opened his own mind, working through Anakin's mind until he found the language center of the brain and planted his suggestion there.

"Woah, what was that?" the blond asked.

"Here," Obi-Wan said again. "Can you read this now?" he handed Anakin the literature work.

"_Woah_! Wizard!"

"My Master put that suggestion on me; it helps the mind better absorb foreign languages and integrate it faster. I could read both languages inside a standard week. The more difficult works you read, I found, the faster you can absorb the language, so that when the suggestion wears off, you have a larger vocabulary to pull from, and anything after that is using standard reading strategies to parse words you don't know."

"Then give me the mechanics pad, quick!" Anakin said, his eyes darting all over the literature datapad. Over the next three hours Obi-Wan and Anakin worked on the more vocabulary intensive subjects: mechanics, literature, diplomacy, and the sciences. Anakin flew through the work, at last understanding what he was reading and his intelligence finally showing in his work. Obi-Wan actually had to slow the boy down to make sure that he answered the questions completely, and that he learned the work thoroughly.

By the third day, Anakin was competently fluent in Basic, and Obi-Wan next focused on what the boy did and didn't know in each of the subjects, working first with the ones that Anakin felt most confident in, getting the smaller and easier-to-finish work not only out of the way, but back to his teachers to prove that work was being done. Within two weeks Anakin had all of his make up work turned in, though it meant many long nights. Obi-Wan was relentless in checking for understanding, and he held true to his promise, Anakin learned the work _thoroughly_, and by the end of the fourth month he had finally settled in with his agemates in all of his classes.

Obi-Wan hesitated at first, but he allowed himself a small swell of pride that Anakin had covered so much material so quickly. It was yet another sign that the boy was gifted, and the Jedi saw once more that Master Qui-Gon had been right to fight for Anakin.

... Even if Qui-Gon did ignore his own Padawan in the process.

Obi-Wan shook his head when he had that thought and went back into meditation, content that Anakin would be busy with his crèche-work in the meantime.

**

* * *

Author's Notes:** ...Ooookay, so much for writing drabbles. This reads like an entire scene; so I guess we'll this a ficlet. What can I say, we're both just really long winded. :P

This is also a fair amount of self-gratification in this one as well; we're both teachers, and any chance we get to insert it (and use it correctly) is always a pleasure for us. If anyone's read our Naruto fic called Team Time, you'll have a vague idea of what we mean. Having said that, the idea of talking about things like placement tests or home(crèche)-work warms a little nook of our hearts. We also are greatly entertained by the idea that the Force is a reading strategy - you have no idea how much that entertains us. About the only thing missing is math, but then Anakin likely excels in mathematics and so it didn't seem right for this particular moment. Maybe we'll play into it later...?

This first arc is both easy and hard in some respects. We want to show all the small changes of how they bond, but still show that their relationship is starting out broken. Anakin is next door to Palpatine right now, and one can't really ignore him, so even the touching scenes have to be just a little bit painful.

Anyway, as always, we hope you like.

Next time: Hugs can save the galaxy.


	4. Where Hugs Help

**Where Hugs Help**

Anakin was, again, working up the courage to ask Obi-Wan something. Granted, asking his Master something wasn't as difficult as it had been in the beginning. On some level, he kept expecting Obi-Wan to ignore him, yell at him, dismiss him, because everyone had a private part of themselves that they didn't want to share. And previous owners had made it clear that you _didn't_ question your owner.

But Anakin had watched Obi-Wan answer _every_ single question that he ever asked. Maybe not right away, and maybe not to his satisfaction, but Obi-Wan always had an answer. And he kept answering until Anakin understood.

He'd gotten rather comfortable with asking many types of questions, such as help for crèche-work or explanations of how the Jedi lived. (Once he knew he could ask these questions, he'd pestered his Master relentlessly to absorb as much as he could. Much like he'd asked questions of Qui-Gon on their ride to Coruscant before things had gone bad at Naboo.) But the question that Anakin wanted to ask was something that he was almost _certain_ would barge into private areas. Yet Anakin _needed_ an answer, because it was about something that he needed but wasn't getting.

Obi-Wan was always clear on one thing. "Padawan, you grew up differently than other younglings here at the Temple. So if you ever need something that we don't normally have, please let me know. I'll do my best to provide it for you."

So Anakin took a deep breath.

Dinner had become something of a sharing time. Now that they actually had a little connection, it became a time for talking of their days, sharing frustrations, and finding solutions. It was also when Anakin felt most comfortable with asking some of his questions, as it was when he saw Obi-Wan most relaxed.

"Master?"

"Mnn?" the Master asked, still sipping his tea.

"Do Jedi not believe in hugs?"

There was a slight choking noise (it _never_ ceased to amuse Anakin that he could make his Master choke...) before Obi-Wan took a deep breath and another sip of tea.

"Sorry?" he asked, his usual quiet probe for more information.

Anakin scowled. If Obi-Wan wanted clarification, why didn't he just _ask_? Reading into things was such a _pain_. Still, Anakin had asked, so he'd better explain.

"I can't tell if Jedi believe in hugs or not," he said, twirling some of his food on his fork. "I've seen a lot of Jedi hug each other in greeting and stuff, but I don't think I've ever seen any Jedi give a _proper_ hug. I thought Jedi would always be hugging. My mother said hugging can save the galaxy, and that's what Jedi do, right?"

Obi-Wan's stubble quirked with a smile. "Anakin, could you explain how hugs can save the galaxy? I've not heard the philosophy before."

"Isn't it obvious?" Anakin replied, his eyebrows rising. "You can tell who's had hugs and who hasn't. My friends were good people. They were always hugged by their parents, their friends; you know? The bullies and mean kids didn't have enough hugs. You _never_ saw them getting hugged." He shrugged. "You could even see it in the customers who came to Watto's shop. The good customers, sometimes you saw them with their kids and friends and stuff. There were always hugs. The mean customers were always alone."

Obi-Wan leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. "Anakin, your mother is an incredibly wise woman. There are times where I wish that I'd met her."

And that warmed something deep in Anakin. And made him cold. Because he _knew_ is mother was wonderful, and it was _nice_ to have someone else acknowledge that. Especially his Master. But it was another reminder that his mother was still on Tatooine and a slave, and that _hurt_. He'd save his mother. Someday, when he was a Jedi Knight, he'd go back and set his mother free.

"In answer to your question, I don't think that Jedi believe or disbelieve in hugs. But I can only speak from my own experience. I'd imagine hugs are something that Jedi think about on a more individual basis than on an overall philosophical level."

Anakin nodded. That didn't quite make sense. How could Jedi _not_ think of hugs?

"Let's have a seat." Anakin glanced down at their plates, and realized they'd finished. And if they were going to continue their conversation in common room, he grabbed a glace of muja juice while his Master brought his cup of tea.

They both sat on the couch, facing each other. Anakin tucked himself into his little corner, which was getting difficult with his increasing size, and Obi-Wan sat across from him.

"Hmmm, I suppose that hugs for me are... rather foreign."

"Foreign?" What was _that_ supposed to mean?

Obi-Wan nodded. "My clan head was assigned to crèche duty after he'd lost an arm on a particularly bad mission. He was always gentle and kind, but hugging wasn't something he could do well, especially when there were always smaller younglings demanding his attention." His Master shrugged. "As for Master Qui-Gon, well his Master wasn't affectionate at all, and his apprentice before me..." Obi-Wan looked off to the side. "Well, it didn't go well. Master Qui-Gon doted on him, but was ultimately betrayed. When Qui-Gon finally accepted me as his Padawan-"

And _what_ did Obi-Wan mean by "_finally_" being accepted?

"-he made sure not to repeat his mistakes."

Anakin blinked. Obi-Wan was done explaining, and it was now Anakin's turn to translate Obi-Wan speak into something understandable. So he sat back and turned his Master's words around in his mind, trying to see what Obi-Wan meant by hugs being "foreign".

"Wait a minute," Anakin gasped as things clicked in his head. "You mean you were _never_ hugged? At all? Ever?"

His Master nodded.

"That's just... just... _wrong_!" he shouted, completely aghast. "How can Jedi be all compassionate and caring and giving if they don't even know how to _hug_? That is just _so_ messed up!"

If his Master didn't know how to hug, it was _no wonder_ Anakin didn't get hugged! His mother had always hugged him to show how much she loved him and he'd missed it since joining the Jedi. But if Jedi didn't get hugged and didn't know what it felt like! That was just _wrong_!

So Anakin, impulsive as always, dove forward and wrapped his Master Obi-Wan in the strongest hug he could give, the kind of hug he always gave his mother when she'd been worn down by their days in slavery, because Anakin _cared_ about his Master. Obi-Wan was there for him. And though Obi-Wan didn't always get it right, he tried and Anakin could see that. Obi-Wan was patient and gentle and could get exasperated, but he had never treated Anakin cruelly. Obi-Wan was kind and kind people _deserved_ hugs. And the fact that Obi-Wan had _never_ really been hugged needed to be fixed.

Slowly, with great hesitation, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms awkwardly around his young Padawan, and Anakin warmed at it. He wasn't that good at sending things through the bond yet, but he opened up and let Obi-Wan feel what he was feeling at being hugged, the warmth, the care, the love. The feeling of safety.

Obi-Wan didn't return anything, no doubt because he didn't understand the power of hugs yet. But Anakin made a promise to himself. He would _teach_ Obi-Wan what hugs meant.

And so he taught. Obi-Wan, after so many years without proper hugs, would never be completely comfortable with hugging Anakin in public. But in the private of their quarters, wherever they were on whatever missions they took. Obi-Wan learned how to give wonderful hugs. And Anakin was always giving any whenever he was certain that Obi-Wan needed one.

**

* * *

Author's Note**: This is one of those subtle differences that we felt was necessary. Aside from the fact that BOTH Obi-Wan and Anakin need a hug rather desperately at various points through the universe, it's something that skirts around Jedi attachment issues without ever being openly addressed. Hugging someone _could_ be a sign of attachment. Yet Jedi are allowed to have friends, and for some people, if you see a friend you haven't seen in a while, you're going to hug them.

The Obi-Wan we have for this drabble series understands that Anakin had time with his mother and as such, needs to be treated a little differently. This Obi-Wan is going to look at Anakin, wonder where the hell he got some of his ideas, question Anakin and try to see things from his point of view, and go from there. The idea that "hugs can save the world", ie: showing a little bit of kindness to people, _is_ a very Jedi concept, and we rather picture that it's something that Qui-Gon at least would meditate on. Since Obi-Wan knows his master would probably meditate on it, he might as well. This leads to more understanding of Anakin.

Similarly, this lets Anakin see things about Obi-Wan that he might not get if he doesn't question things. And we both see Anakin as a VERY inquisitive child. With Anakin having a better understanding of his Master, it's easier for him to come to Obi-Wan with things that he might not otherwise.

This is such a subtle thing. It's about opening the lines of communication. But the repercussions for this for later in the story are going to be HUGE. ^_^


	5. Where Darkness is Released

**Where Darkness is Released**

It was a year later. Anakin was scowling at his datapad chips horrendously, trying to determine _why_ his teachers decided it was such a good idea to always give _him_ (no one else, oh, no. They weren't the _Chosen One..._) so much extra work to do. Obi-Wan hadn't come back yet from his meeting with the High Council, which meant that Anakin was stuck by himself without any help whatsoever for all the work he had to do.

It had been a long year for the start of his apprenticeship. His Master _still_ meditated _too much_, but Anakin was used to it. He didn't like it _at all_ but he was used to it. Gradually, Obi-Wan _had_ cut back some on his meditation, after learning that Anakin could barely read Basic. It had helped. Anakin had finally started to feel a _connection_ with his Master. Obi-Wan was extremely patient in explaining things to him, and Anakin had no clue how his master could manage that. Anakin had always known he wasn't the best of students without something more concrete to hold and touch, as his mother had often told him, yet Obi-Wan had sat with him every night after dinner to go over his work and aide him.

But for all that there started to be a connection (_at last!_) it never went beyond that. When Anakin went to bed, his Master went to meditate. His Master was only just another teacher. As Anakin caught up to where he was supposed to be, Obi-Wan took over more and more of Anakin's learning (not that it was that much yet...), but he still stayed in his teacher mode.

Needless to say, this _irritated_ Anakin. He wanted something _more_. He wanted his Master to love him. Was that so wrong? But yes, yes it was wrong. Jedi don't love. "There is no emotion, there is serenity." Which made _no sense_. At. All.

It was part of the reason that, when he had free time, he was often visiting with Chancellor Palpatine. Granted, just mustering up the courage to _ask_ Obi-Wan if that was all right took over a week to do. When he'd finally, hesitantly, and quietly asked if it was okay to go see the Chancellor, his Master had surprised him.

With a small smile, Obi-Wan had said. "Of course! Anakin, if you have a free day, you may do whatever you wish. I see no problem with you wanting to visit the friends you made before you came here to the Temple. However..."

And Anakin was _certain_ that Obi-Wan's "however"s were the equivalent of his mother's "but"s.

"...I'd recommend making an appointment first. The Chancellor _is_ a politician, and as such he is very busy. If you make an appointment, I'm sure he'll be able to properly devote some of his time to you, rather than being distracted."

_Like _you_ always are,_ a frustrated part of him had thought. But he had put that aside. Obi-Wan was letting him see someone who actually seemed to _care_ so he wasn't going to complain.

Palpatine was always generous. After the first few appointments, which Anakin was shocked he actually got ("I always have time for the hero that saved my home planet!"), the old Chancellor had insisted that Anakin could drop by whenever he wanted or needed to ("I don't mind a distraction from all the requests sent to me, even if it's only for a few minutes."). Anakin tried not to take advantage of that, after all, running the entire galaxy _had_ to be a lot of work, but there were times when he was especially lonely that he'd drop by and was glad to be the center of attention from the kind old man.

Palpatine actually agreed with Anakin, that Obi-Wan should spend more time with him. And it was nice to know that Anakin's thoughts weren't just his own bizarre reasoning and that other people could see it to. Sometimes, when surrounded by all these Jedi who'd been raised by each other and the Force, Anakin sometimes couldn't help but think that his own thoughts and feelings were woefully out of place. Just different.

"Ah, Anakin."

The young padawan was brought back to the present.

"Master!" he smiled. "You're finally back!" _You can explain all this junk better!_

"Yes, I was rather afraid that the Council was trying to kidnap me for a while there," the Knight replied with that faint quirk at the lips.

Obi-Wan's bizarre sense of humor took some getting used to. But Anakin found he liked it on the rare occasions his Master decided to share.

There was a measuring look towards him now, and Anakin sat up and let out a breath, releasing his earlier frustration at all his work.

His Master gave a small, gentle smile.

"Anakin, would you join me for a moment?"

One look at his datachips, and Anakin was gratefully following Obi-Wan out to the balcony. They sat comfortably across from each other, and Anakin looked to Obi-Wan's face, wondering what they were going to do.

"I believe a year ago, I made you a promise. That I would show you why I needed to meditate so much, once you'd been able to do some of the first stages of meditation on your own."

Anakin's jaw dropped. _He_ barely remembered that conversation, but Obi-Wan had not only remembered, he was keeping his word? Whoa.

... Wait... was his Master trying to trick him into meditation? Anakin hated meditation! It was so difficult!

"I'd like you to enter into some meditation, Padawan," Obi-Wan stated, once again in his teacher-mode. "Then, you'll feel me along the bond. I want to show you something."

... Well that was different. His Master _never_ joined him in meditation.

"Okay," he replied, closing his eyes and letting the sounds of traffic lull him. The young Padawan didn't like how long it took him to enter meditation, and it was _never_ the easiest thing to do... Mechanics were simple. Meditation was _not_. But he eventually was floating in the energy of the Force. It was a comforting feeling once he was connected to what bound the universe, but binding himself too it was always such a problem, Anakin often wondered what the point was.

Still, the Force was always a wonderful thing to feel. There was just so much... Anakin didn't have the words... Goodness was the closest he'd ever come and that wasn't quite right either.

There was a gentle nudge, and Anakin became aware of another presence, connected to his own.

_Master?_

_ Yes, Anakin. Take a moment to just feel. You've never had me beside you like this before. Take your time. Get used to it._

Not that words were exchanged so clearly. Just the general feeling.

So Anakin took a moment to just feel his Master. And he was a little surprised. Obi-Wan was a warm feeling in the Force. Protective, righteous. Muddled. Why was Obi-Wan muddled?

_I'm blocking a few things from you,_ was the response. _You'll see why in a moment. Now, I'm going to start guiding you into a much deeper meditation. Just let things flow. If anything gets uncomfortable, or you need a moment to adjust, I'll pause._

Anakin fought back a grumble. He was far to active a person to just "let things flow". It was part of why he had such difficulty entering into meditation in the first place.

A wave of warmth past through him that he _swore_ sounded like his Master... Chuckling...

_Sorry, Anakin, but I had the same difficulty as you, when I first started meditating._

He still huffed, but he was a little mollified by that. He let out another breath and felt Obi-Wan shifting the way the Force flowed. It sort of felt like sinking and Anakin's connection started to get stronger and strong with the Force.

It took his breath away. And suddenly, Anakin understood why meditation could be so cool: because the Force was _beautiful_. Not just that surface goodness he could clumsily reach, but the _depth_ of it was awe-inspiring. There were so many... Anakin didn't know how to describe it... places to explore! And the _feeling_ of the Force! Goodness had never been the right word, but now that didn't even _compare_ to what this was.

_Look Anakin._

And there was an almost-set of instructions flowing in him as he looked at not just the Force and its ebb and flow, but at pinpoints of light.

Light that he somehow recognized.

High above him was a blinding green light of Master Yoda, and beside the Grandmaster was the solid purple light of Master Windu. Anakin looked around, unbelievingly at all the Jedi in the temple and their light. Oranges, blues, reds, pinks, yellows, browns, golds, silvers, so many different shades of each! It was... amazing! And they weren't even aware of their colors! Or maybe they were and saw it all the time.

_No Anakin, this is a very deep meditation, and many often seek a different purpose when they wish to go this deep. Master Qui-Gon showed me this once... I've become rather fond of it._

And that was the first time Anakin had _ever_ heard Obi-Wan speak of Qui-Gon without sadness. Only just a hint of wistfulness.

Wait, what color was his Master?

Anakin turned and gasped. _Master?_

Obi-Wan was still light. He could see it clearly trying to shine. But his light was encased in a thin, thin, cracked shell of black. Of... Darkness.

_This is why I meditate so much, my Padawan. This was much worse a year ago. And I do not wish this to corrupt you_.

Anakin could only nod dumbly.

A small, tiny ball of Darkness siphoned off of his Master. _My rage at my Master being killed right before my eyes as I was helpless to stop it._ The ball slowly dissipated into the Force. Another ball was siphoned off of the Darkness that encased Obi-Wan. _My fear of losing my Master_. This too dissipated and was replaced again. _My hatred of the Zabrak that killed my Master._ It dissipated. Each ball that was released to the Force made the Darkness that encased Obi-Wan a little thinner, a little more cracked.

_But why not get rid of this all at once? Or in larger batches?_ Anakin couldn't help but wonder.

_Because to do so would hurt _far_ too much._

_ Do you see now, Anakin? Why I've been meditating so much? I didn't want this Darkness that sticks and clings to me to stick and cling to you._

Anakin felt... felt.. wow... His Master _did_ care about him.

And that felt very, very good.

**

* * *

Author's Note**: Yeah, getting to understand-each-other type thing here. Plus, Obi-Wan did mention before that after fighting Maul that the Darkside had "found his scent". He was spending time in meditation (read: away from Anakin) because he was trying to wash it off, and here Anakin finally sees it. Ani probably still resents how lonely he's been, but he has understanding now, which is more than he had before. Subtlety. Everything is subtlety.

**Notice**: Well we've all had a nice happy Thanksgiving, but now we're looking at this little holiday called Christmas. Said holiday has a lot of shopping that is required. The two of us work during the week. So Saturdays (our fanfiction day) are now Christmas shopping days. We'll still be updating every other week, but it may not be Saturday afternoon (East Coast Time) But early Saturday morning, Sunday night, or somewhere in between. We apologize for the more random nature of the next couple of updates.

**Next time**: The first time Anakin left the Temple, it was completely by accident.


	6. Where Accidents Happen

**Where Accidents Happen**

The first time Anakin left the Temple, it was completely by accident.

It had started off with a rather innocuous assignment from a teacher - to do a report on some aspect of the Temple. His classmates had picked what he considered predictably boring things: the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or the Halls of Healing, or a Spire or the Council Chamber. Dull and humdrum! Anakin, with his Master's delighted encouragement, had decided to do a report on the energy consumption of the Temple. When he'd first arrived at the Temple, Obi-Wan had put him on a tourist's tour of the place. The Jedi guide, some withered old biddy named Nu, had a lot of novel and interesting facts, but the one that had caught his attention was the fact that the Temple had used only one tenth the energy of average buildings on Coruscant which were significantly smaller. That had perked him, and for the assignment he remembered the little factoid and decided to do more research on it.

He had actually been quite fascinated. It was once he'd found the electronics mapping of the Temple he was able to overlay what he already knew and things had started to turn interesting.

The Temple was four thousand-something years old, and had gone under many reconstructions and renovations, but Anakin was shocked to discover that some of the facilities and systems were _still in place_ and, actually, _untouched_. There was an old school, low-tech genius to some of the things Anakin had learned about. For example, there were several East-West ducts on the underneath of the Temple that held nothing but massive turbines; and the combination of exhaust and traffic and wind created significant gusts, spinning the turbines and creating sustainable energy for the Temple. The lightning rods on the spires of the Temple were connected to batteries for generators, and every electrical storm brought charges to the reserves. The windows also doubled as solar panels.

The more Anakin researched, the more the boy became fascinated by what he learned. It wasn't long before he was taking the maps he's printed out and was exploring all the corners of the Temple, curiosity demanding that he saw these inner workings in person. He was shocked to learn that there were no lights in the maintenance ducts, and this was what had precipitated his accident.

He'd crawled into an access duct with his maps and tried to figure out how anyone could see what they needed to. It wasn't until he'd made a turn and the light from the Temple had disappeared that he realized the wonderful truth. Someone, somehow, had had the brilliant idea of coating the pipes with some kind of phosphorous compound; the ones on the left were clearly labeled with what they were. The floor had arrows with directions lining them, and crossways were outlined with the compound.

Fascinated, Anakin scraped his fingernails along the arrows - a feat that took longer than he thought because he couldn't see his hands in the darkness. He realized quickly that any workers had to have similarly coated gloves (Maybe even suits! That would be wizard!). When he did finally managed to scrape, he discovered that the phosphorus was coated with some kind of protective polyurethane. That was even cooler! Fumbling, Anakin pulled out his maps and realized he couldn't read them in the darkness. Frowning, he shoved the maps back into his belt and reached for a datapad, powering it up. He called up the electronic versions of the maps and tried to assess where he was.

The light from the datapad dimmed the visibility of the phosphorus lettering, and as he stepped forward to squint at the words to see at what junction he was at, he failed to see the faint outline of an access way.

Directly below him.

For a full three minutes he tumbled and fell and bumped and slid before he finally was blinded by the sudden flood of light and, as his pupils tried to constrict valiantly against the onslaught, he finally managed to reach out to the Force and beg that it cushion his fall. The impact shook him all the way down to his bones, and for a several second he just lay there, trying to figure out what had just happened.

When he finally realized the light he was immersed in was sunlight, Anakin pulled himself up to his knees and ran a hand through his closely cropped hair. Looking up, he saw the duct he had fallen through. Looking around, he saw the sun was reflecting and refracting along all the buildings around him. Air traffic was buzzing around his head about ten meters up, and the air was hot.

He was... he was...

Outside.

Anakin gave into his first impulse and used every swearword he could think of. Then he created a few new ones for good measure. Just to cover all his bases.

The swearing used up a lot of excess energy, and it helped alleviate the flare of panic that had initially threatened him. Expended and a little clearer in his thoughts, he walked around to see if he could find a way back into the Temple. If he managed to reenter the ductwork, he could use the phosphorus to guide his way back to a hall and he could find his way from there. Anakin quickly learned, however, that the vent was about twenty meters above him, and he was not yet good enough in accessing the Force to make the jump. Frowning, he tried to work out another way to fix the problem. He was nowhere near the Processional Way, the main boulevard that lead into the Temple. Climbing the ziggurat-shaped building was also impossible - the Temple was a kilometer taller than the rest of the buildings!

Would he have to call for help?

No, no, there _had_ to be a way to get back into the Temple. He _would not_ call his master for help.

An hour later, however, he had to concede defeat. All his life he'd been a fixer; it was his ability to fix droids that made him a valuable asset to Watto. It was something that he took pride in. He knew from slavery that asking for help was the same as asking for punishment - one didn't do it unless it was worth it and, fortunately, Watto never did much more than yell at him if he couldn't fix something. After years of this, Anakin found it very, _very_ hard to ask for help if he didn't have to. It was why he had been so resistant to Obi-Wan teaching him at first. It was his master, in point of fact, that showed him that sometimes asking for help was beneficial. And so, with much grumbling and rehearsing some of his better swears, he sat down heavily and began the painstaking process of clearing his head enough to project.

* * *

Obi-Wan, while Anakin was adventuring, was in the Council Chambers. It was always an experience to be in the presence of any member of the Council, the Force resonated around them and one could not help but sense the capability and prowess the Masters had with it. Being in front of all twelve of them, it was inspiring.

It was also nerve wracking.

This wasn't Obi-Wan's first meeting with them, of course. He had been in these chambers many times but, before, it had always been with his master, Qui-Gon. Inspiration always turned to nervousness, because if his master was before the Council, it was to poke and prod at some particular decision or side-quest that Qui-Gon had made. Being on the bad side of the Council never made one feel easy. For the last year, Obi-Wan was left never quite sure which side of the Council he was on. Yoda's admission that he did not approve of his training of Anakin had left the new Knight all too aware of the fact that the Council in general didn't like Anakin and, by extension, himself. Since he hadn't had many meetings with the Council since that particular conversation, Obi-Wan was left wondering where he stood.

He had no idea what to expect when the Council had summoned him. When Mace explained why he had been called, Obi-Wan found himself trying (and to his mind failing) to hide his shock.

"Me?" he managed to ask.

"Yes, hmm," the tiny figure of Yoda said, closing his eyes. "You. Go, you shall."

The Jedi took a breath and forced himself to think rationally. "Masters," he began, "I'm honored that you would choose me for this assignment, but I hardly feel qualified. I've only been a Knight for a year and a half, and I've a Padawan who has not yet had the self-defense and lightsaber practice necessary to go out on missions. Surely, there is a better choice than such as myself."

Mace leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Obi-Wan suddenly felt himself wondering if the Master realized how intimidating he looked when he did that.

"Kenobi," he said in blunt tones, not even bothering to placate the Knight. "Over two hundred planets have seceded from the Republic to create their own governing system. We must send a Jedi to _every one_ of those planets to try and negotiate their return. We simply don't have enough Knights to afford to be selective. Even sending every Knight available we won't have enough. You are free when compared to others. Therefore, you are going." His intense stare brooked no refusal.

Obi-Wan conceded defeat, wondering how he was going to explain this all to Anakin; the boy was looking forward to his first mission, and he sensed that he would be upset that Obi-Wan would go off and he di-

_LOST!_

Obi-Wan fought to bite back a groan and thrust a hand to his temple.

_LOST! LOST! LOST! LOST! LOST!_

"Is there a problem?" Mace asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No, no, Master Windu," Obi-Wan said quickly, jerking his hand back and mentally cursing that he had been so obvious. "My Padawan seems to be trying to get my attention," he supplied weakly, hoping he didn't sound quite as incompetent as he thought he did - space in front of the Council, no less!

To his everlasting surprise, the entire Council, all twelve members, shared soft and knowing smiles.

Yoda gave a warm chuckle. "Then go you should; and see what trouble your Padawan has found. Done here, we are."

Obi-Wan bowed and left as fast as dignity would allow, his mind swirling in many directions. What had Yoda meant when he talked of Anakin finding trouble? Did he feel that Obi-Wan's Padawan was prone to it, a troublemaker, some subtle jibe or reminder that he did not approve of the boy? No, that was beneath the Master, Obi-Wan berated himself for thinking so little of a Council member. Was he really so uncertain about his standing that his mind would jump to such thoughts? What had Anakin _done_ to make him shout, "lost!" over and over? Where would he be if he actually considered himself such? What had he gotten himself into?

And why, stars above, _why_ had this happened in front of the Council?

* * *

Anakin startled when he felt something like a response from his master, a soft _where_ infused his mind, colored with irritation. What did his master have to be irritated, Anakin wondered. _He_ didn't fall down a pipe and out of the Temple. He growled slightly but did not leave his meditation, opening his eyes slightly and picturing everything around him, sending it through the bond.

He thought he heard a soft feeling of _coming_, and the boy assumed that everything was set and all he had to do was wait. Opening his eyes and coming out of the meditation, he stood and stretched his legs, wondering how long it would take before his master would find him. He craned his neck up again, trying to follow the line of the Temple up and up, but it was too high for him to fathom, and it only made his shoulders hurt. Frowning, the young Padawan rolled them and lowered his head, looking for interesting things that were more down to earth.

It was a little past midday, the sun was and would be hidden behind one of the spires for a few minutes, and without the shine of the glass, Anakin had a better look around.

That was, of course, when he saw the poster.

It was plastered on one of the buildings, scraped there by a less than professional hand and looked much like the ones Anakin often saw on Tatooine for the back races, the illegal ones that weren't controlled by the Hutts. It depicted a podracer, zooming so fast that the rest of the background was painted in colored streaks. The text read, "Wanna race? Come to the lower level tracks and see if you have enough adrenaline!" Anakin stared at the poster, goggled it really, as his mind absorbed perhaps for the first time, that life existed outside of the Temple and the Senate. He'd had no idea that Coruscant even _had_ lower levels, and his innate curiosity made him wonder what it was like, who would be down there; but more importantly, what were the tracks like, did anything match what Beggar's Canyon back home could do to a racer, what kinds of turns were there, what kind of racers were considered standard, who was the best racer on this circuit? That thought made Anakin grin, whoever the best was, he would soon be deposed now that _he_ was here to show everyone who the best really was.

He was memorizing the address when a hand clamped firmly on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up to see his master in silhouette, the sun directly behind him, making his expression impossible to see.

"Obi-Wan!" he cried out brightly. "Look at this! They have _podraces_ here! When can we go down and watch them? Do Jedi have podracers, 'cause if they do I want to sign up and show them all who the winner of the Boonta Eve Festival is! Do you know what the track is like, or what kind of fuel-"

"Padawan," Obi-Wan asked, "It _this_ was made you cry out to me through the bond in the middle of a _Council_ meeting?"

Anakin had enough presence of mind to feel abashed, and he looked down accordingly. He gave himself about three seconds before he decided that was enough atonement and launched into an explanation of what happened:

"I was checking out some of the maintenance ducts for that Temple report I had to do and it was really cool how everything glowed in the dark because of the phosphorus compound that had been sealed on all the pipes but they could only work in complete darkness and when my datapad lit up so I could take notes and stuff I didn't see that there was an open pipe right below me and I fell through and I didn't know how to get back inside!" He paused to take a breath but finally caught site of Obi-Wan's face. The stern, downright cold look blocked any further words from escaping.

The Jedi stared at the boy for a long time, his face frozen, before his eyes closed and he heaved a deep, weary, sigh. A hand went up to his beard, tugging small strands of it. Finally,

"Come, Anakin. Let's go."

Obi-Wan turned on his heel and started walking, leaving Anakin to scramble to catch up and wondering what was wrong. "Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan what happened? What's wrong? Are you mad at me?"

The Jedi paused at that, tilting his head slightly. "... No," he said finally, his voice sounding defeated. Anakin had not caught up yet to see his face. "No, I'm not angry, Padawan. I dare say you gave me quite the scare when I realized you were outside the Temple." Anakin assimilated that, quickly writing that off as a lie because Obi-Wan was never scared.

"Then what's the big deal?" he pressed, wanting to figure out why his master had looked so cold back there. "I was doing my crèche-work and fell down a duct, it was an accident."

"And the podracing questions?"

Anakin found himself being defensive. "Oh, come on!" he said, still jogging to keep up with the Jedi's long strides. "I love podracing! You know that! Maybe the better question is why you didn't tell me there were races like that on Coruscant, huh?"

Obi-Wan froze, coming to a halt so quickly Anakin nearly ran into him. He used his momentum to spin around and throw a fierce look at the Jedi. "Well?" he demanded.

The man had closed his eyes, though, and was rubbing his chin again. "Anakin," he asked slowly, "I thought you wanted to be a Jedi."

That hurt. Hurt a lot. "Of course I do!" he shouted, his voice cracking with volume.

"Then why are you letting yourself get distracted with occurrences outside the Temple?"

"I am _not_!" he cried out, shocked and hurt that his master would even _think_ such a thing. "I was doing my _crèche-work_, what part of that didn't you hear?"

Obi-Wan crouched down to eye level, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Anakin," he said softly, "I want you to listen to me: the life of a Jedi is very hard. It requires discipline and total dedication. _Total_. Outside influences cannot be entered into the equation. This will be harder for you, I understand, because you haven't grown up with this knowledge; you know better than the other younglings here what lies outside the Temple and your natural curiosity draws you to it."

"Then..."

"Anakin," the Jedi said over the Padawan. "Your only focus should be on the training, on becoming a Jedi. Any other distractions will only hinder you, and you are too talented for that to happen. Do you understand?"

"But..."

"_Do you understand_?" he pressed.

"... Yes, Master," he replied softly, though it was a lie. Anakin felt the weight of the question, though he did not completely understand it. He couldn't figure out why liking podracing would hurt him in becoming a Jedi, because it was his podracing that broke him out of slavery. If he was as talented as people were starting to say about him, then surely he could multitask? He was confused, and when Obi-Wan got like this - stern and unyielding and unable to listen - he didn't know what to do.

The second time he snuck out of the Temple it was to see Palpatine.

The third time he snuck out it was to see the podraces.

**

* * *

Author's Notes:** Sigh, poor Obi-Wan, though he gets little screen-time here this is actually his chapter, kind of.

All it says in his profile at wookiepedia that he goes on a long period of "self doubt," and so we can only imagine that he doesn't feel that he's on sure footing with the Council, Yoda's refusal to consent to his training - Yoda! Whom he has nothing but the deepest respect - must have rocked him to his core and made him doubt every decision he makes in regard to Anakin. Would the Council approve of this or that? Did he make the right decision over this problem? One imagines that after a meeting with the Council he would feel even jitterier and, probably, more reserved towards Ani. This leaves him less inclined to give the emotional understanding that Anakin needs when he's asking a question.

And so, cue Palpatine. And the Soap Opera continues.

Next time: Anakin's Worst Week Ever and how Obi-Wan helps.


	7. Where Surprises Are Pleasant

**Where Surprises Are Pleasant**

Anakin's week had been the _Worst Week Ever_!

It had started at the beginning of the week when, just as Anakin had been getting the hang of the beginning of meditation (_Thank you_, Obi-Wan!), that he'd been interrupted by the com. It had been a message from the Council that they had needed to see his master. Obi-Wan had looked at him regretfully, told him to keep working on it, and left. Which, of course, meant that Anakin had gotten _nowhere_ since nobody but his master _ever_ explained things right. This isn't to say he didn't try. He'd worked for almost an hour on trying to meditate before finally giving up and going to his crèche-work.

But he'd fallen behind on his crèche-work again, and there was a lot to do. So when his master had returned (_three hours later!_ _Why_ did the Council always take so _long_?) Anakin had been hoping to get a little extra help in the areas that were puzzling him.

Did that happen?

No. Of course not. Why should it?

Instead, with a carefully blank face, Obi-Wan had told Anakin to join him in the common room. There, he proceeded to explain that he was being sent out on a mission. At first, Anakin had been thrilled. _Finally_! Something _interesting_ to do! Adventure! Something to break up the tedium of all his lessons. But no, this wasn't to be. Obi-Wan had gently explained that he would be going alone. _Alone_! Another solo mission, _again_!

Anakin didn't understand that. Not one tiny, little bit. From everything he'd heard, Padawans _always_ went wherever their master went. So what the hell? _Why_ wasn't he going? He'd done well at the Naboo blockade! Palpatine always heralded him as a hero. So _why_ wasn't he allowed out of the Temple on a field trip that would actually be _fun_? Obi-Wan calmly and patiently explained (again) that because Anakin still hadn't started on self-defense, that Obi-Wan would be called on solo missions. He also said that when Masters had very young Padawans, they would often be left in the Temple in the early years of apprenticeship, to ensure the Padawans had enough education of the basics before finally being let out to the field. Most Padawans started fieldwork around twelve to thirteen years of age. Anakin was only barely eleven.

Anakin had stewed horribly about that for the rest of the day as he watched his master prepare for the mission. Oh, he knew he was acting like a brat and that Obi-Wan didn't deserve this. It was the _Council's_ fault, not his master's. But the Council wasn't there for a proper tantrum. Obi-Wan tried to talk to him, but Anakin was just too angry to listen.

This did not mean, however, that Anakin didn't see his master off. No. He was there to wave good-bye and, despite whatever Master Windu thought about it, he gave Obi-Wan a hug for good luck. He hoped that his master understood that Anakin wasn't angry with him, just the Council and the situation, because Anakin couldn't articulate it when he was busy hugging and letting his master know he'd miss him and that he'd have all _sorts_ of work done by the time Obi-Wan returned.

And Anakin _did_ try to keep that promise. He really, really did. That very evening, after Obi-Wan had left, Anakin had planned to start making headway on all of his crèche-work and show his master that he could be self-sufficient so Obi-Wan could be proud of him.

But did that happen? Nope. Not at all.

Why? Because Master Windu didn't like the fact that Anakin had hugged his master and had pulled him away from the time he'd devoted to getting ahead. He'd claimed it was because he knew Anakin was struggling with meditating and merely sought to help him during Obi-Wan's absence. Anakin was _certain_ it was because he didn't like that Anakin showed something that could be viewed as "attachment" to his master.

So for _four hours_, Anakin had been held hostage by the Jedi Master, going through meditation exercise after meditation exercise, until Anakin was _positive_ his brain was going to explode. Seriously. Did _anyone_ know how to explain things like Obi-Wan did? _Anyone_? Those hours had been worse than when Obi-Wan had caught him sneaking out _deliberately_ instead of accidentally and drilled him in his lessons for over a day.

By the time he'd gotten back to their apartment, he was exhausted and collapsed into bed. Of course, since he _didn't_ have the time to get ahead like he'd wanted, he was now _behind_ in his crèche-work. He hadn't even had time to finish the assignments that were due the following day. And did his teachers understand that he'd been kidnapped by Master Windu? Nope. They just frowned at him, radiated disapproval, and told him to get it done along with giving more assignments that were _also_ due the following day. This, of course, was ridiculous. But he didn't dare say a thing, lest he get into even _more_ trouble.

Thus, for most of the week, Anakin was behind in his crèche-work. Something that the severely stuck-up Ferus Olin lauded over him. _Force_ he was worse than the teachers sometimes. Ferus Olin was just an Initiate. He didn't even have a Master yet. But he excelled in making Anakin feel woefully inadequate, like he didn't belong at the Temple, prophecy or not. Not that Ferus ever did anything overtly. Oh no. He was _far_ too perfect a Jedi for that. (Ferus had _nothing_ on being a perfect Jedi. Master Obi-Wan was a perfect Jedi!) Instead, it was the polite questions of why Anakin was so far behind, or the offering to help him if he didn't understand anything. And Ferus was _always_ praised by the teachers by his excellent work. And the other students _always_ looked to him for answers when Anakin _knew_ his answers were just as valid, just a little different. It was so _irritating_.

Anakin had to give up two (two!) of his lunch hours to even catch up on the work he owed. Still, at least Anakin prided himself in the fact that the work he handed in wasn't rushed or incomplete. Obi-Wan had impressed on him to always do his best and he did. It was why he tended to be late on his assignments; he was always looking up related materials to make sure he was thorough and correct in his answers.

But that was all with just his lessons!

Right smack dab in the middle of the week, Anakin had woken up in the early mornings covered in sweat and drowning in worry after a dream of _some_ sort that he couldn't remember that had _terrified_ him. And. Obi-Wan. Wasn't. There.

This had happened only once before since he'd come to the Temple. He'd woken up from some dream he couldn't recall with fear so powerful he could barely move. Obi-Wan had come rushing in, and it had been the first time that his master had hugged him properly. Obi-Wan held him for a long time, and once Anakin had calmed, he'd picked up the Padawan like he weighed nothing and brought him to the kitchen. He'd gotten out two mugs, filled them with blue milk, and put in a thick tablespoon of honey. His master had asked no questions about the dream, and just sat at Anakin's side as they drank their milk. From there, he'd picked up Anakin again and brought him into Obi-Wan's room. The door had stayed open, and the hall light remained on, and once comfortably held in Obi-Wan's arms, Anakin had fallen deeply asleep.

It had been just what Anakin had needed at the time and he'd been ever so grateful to his master. He'd tried to be extra good for him in payment, though that didn't last as long as he'd wanted. But, the second time such a horrible dream occurred Obi-Wan wasn't there. So Anakin had huddled in his sleep-couch, _trying_ to release his fear. _Trying_ to reach meditation to help him release it. Hell, trying to reach _Obi-Wan_, despite the vast distance that separated them for _some_ sort of reassurance.

Needless to say, he didn't sleep.

Which made the following day _so much worse_. He was called to task for falling asleep in class, given extra work (again!) as punishment, and didn't even get to have lunch since it was one of the days where he gave up his lunch hour just to catch up. Then, to cap off the day (since this was the _long_ day, where he had classes almost every hour...), Master Yoda had visited a class just as Anakin was suffering the most from hunger and sleep-deprivation. And could Master Yoda, reigning Grandmaster and so-in-tune-with-the-Force-surely-he-could-see-Anakin-wouldn't-be-paying-enough-attention leave him alone?

No. That would make too much sense.

Instead, he asked a question to the class in his bizarre speech pattern and called on Anakin to answer it. Anakin (who had been in the middle of a yawn) paused a minute, before giving the first answer that came to mind. Which had apparently been very unorthodox and required much questioning from his fellow students (Damn you, Ferus!) and left Anakin strongly on the defensive.

He'd been so exhausted after it all, he'd collapsed to bed after dinner and slept through his alarm the following morning. Making him late. So the teacher gave him more work. Again. (Anakin was beginning to notice a pattern. A very annoying, very not-his-fault-but-he'll-be-blamed-anyway, pattern.)

Of course, after the hellish week Anakin had been undergoing, it wasn't really a surprise that he tried to sneak out of the Temple to get to the lower levels of Coruscant for at least a _little_ stress relief. "Trying" being the operative word. Some random Jedi Knight between missions had discovered Anakin's attempt to leave and brought him down to the kitchens (once the Knight realized that Anakin's master was out on a mission) so that he'd be on kitchen duty for the remainder of the week. This did _not_ help in trying to catch up on all the work he needed to do. At. All.

And then. Finally. Obi-Wan returned.

Anakin had ditched kitchen duty for the evening to greet his master upon his arrival (something the head chef understood and smiled at... _Finally_! Someone who _understood_!). Obi-Wan's transport was late and Anakin was left fidgeting in the hanger until, at last, an air taxi arrived and Anakin _knew_ his master was back.

He ran forward to greet his master, (he'd _wanted_ to hug Obi-Wan, but Master Windu had arrived and Anakin _wasn't_ going to make the same mistake in the same week, _thank you_.) and paused when he finally got a good look at him.

Obi-Wan looked weary, worn, and exhausted. His beard was looking a little shaggy, and his hair looked like all he'd done this morning was run his hands through it. This, to Anakin, was unacceptable. He was going to drag his master back to their apartment, give him a proper meal, and get him to bed. Then, with the new morning, everything would be back to normal and the awfulness of the week could _finally_ be put behind him.

But this was not to be. Anakin latched onto Obi-Wan's arms, intent to get back to the apartment when Master Windu interrupted them. (ARGH!) It seemed Master Windu had wanted Obi-Wan to debrief the Council right away, since they had many concerns after looking at the preliminary report he'd sent them.

"In the morning!" Anakin had tried to insist. Because, clearly, anyone could see that his master needed a warm meal and a good night's rest.

Yet Obi-Wan, super-selfless and super-stupid Obi-Wan had reached over, squeezed his shoulder, and said it would be fine. He'd be along shortly.

Anakin fumed and huffed horribly, but didn't say a word and went down to the cafeteria to get a good meal for his master and hurried back to their apartment.

_Two hours later_ Obi-Wan shuffled through the door and said only five words. "I'm back," when he entered, "Thank you," after Anakin had all but kicked his master to bed and helped him pull of his boots, and "Goodnight," just before he passed out on his sleep-couch. Anakin put the food he'd gotten (Obi-Wan's favorite...) into the cooling unit and just crawled into his own sleep-couch.

The following morning Anakin made sure that his master was still asleep and that the alarm was unplugged so that he could _keep_ sleeping. Then he went off to his classes. Where he was _still_ behind in all his work. Thankfully he had two free hours between his first classes of the day and he spent the entire time in the Archives, _finally_ catching up and submitting all his assignments. He wasn't ahead, like he'd wanted to be, but at least he was caught up. And after this horrid week, that was _something_.

His lunch hour was peaceful until he spied one of his teachers, looking as irate as a Jedi could, came stalking over to him, dragging a barely-awake Obi-Wan behind him.

Naturally, Anakin could only think, _Now what?_

It was the teacher of the class he'd fallen asleep in, and he seemed intent to berate Anakin in front of his master and the rest of the cafeteria. Anakin couldn't stand it! He hadn't even had a chance to talk to Obi-Wan about it! Yes, it was wrong to fall asleep in class, Anakin already _knew_ that _thank you_, but there had been a _reason_ behind it and he wasn't able to get a word in edgewise to explain. Obi-Wan wasn't awake enough to defend him, and didn't even know the whole story and it was just _so unfair_. And to top it all off, to make the perfect cap to _everything_, the Knight that had gotten him on kitchen duty was coming over, no doubt to share _that_ little escapade as well.

Tears were prickling behind his eyes, but he _wouldn't_ cry, he _wouldn't_. No matter how unfair it was, no matter that he knew a lot of what had happened was partially his fault, no matter that Obi-Wan was finally starting to wake up now that Anakin was upset and Anakin didn't want that, he wanted his master to get some _sleep_ before discussing all of this. No matter what he wouldn't cry, because Jedi didn't cry and he'd at least get _that_ right.

Deep breath. Release.

_Come on. Release!_

It wasn't working. It was just too much after such a terrible week. He wanted Obi-Wan to be proud of him, and instead of hearing what Anakin had been able to accomplish, he was hearing all the mistakes. And Anakin was only eleven years old, a Jedi for over a year. The disappointment and frustration of the week was just too overwhelming.

There was a hand on his shoulder and he looked up. Both his teacher and the Knight were still trying to talk to Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan was ignoring them, focusing solely on him.

"Anak-" and there was _sympathy_ in Obi-Wan's voice. Obi-Wan, who was always so calm and didn't show anything, was feeling _sorry_ for him and Anakin couldn't stand it.

"_Leave me alone!_" he shouted. Then he choked, because that was _anger_ and Jedi didn't give in to anger. So Anakin just ran. He couldn't take any more. He just needed to be _away_. Someplace where he could cry and wish his mother was there to hold him and kiss him and make everything okay again.

He barricaded himself in his room. And he let out all his feelings, not as a Jedi would, but as a little boy would.

* * *

It was some time later that Obi-Wan knocked. His Padawan felt much calmer, though still morose.

Obi-Wan let out a soft sigh. When he had gotten home the previous evening, he could tell that Anakin had needed to talk to him about something, most likely something that had occurred during the week. But when Mace had told him to debrief right away, Obi-Wan had jumped at the chance to just get it all _over_ with so that he could spend proper time with his Padawan without having to worry about an interruption from the Council. Besides, as much as Anakin had missed him, Obi-Wan had missed his little Padawan, though he wouldn't admit it.

Unsurprisingly, given that the planet Obi-Wan had gone to had ultimately seceded from the Republic, despite Obi-Wan's best efforts, the debriefing had taken an inordinately long time. The evening, which he'd wanted to just spend time with Anakin, had been reduced to blearily making his way to his sleep-couch and being very grateful that Anakin had helped him get his boots off before slipping into oblivion. His plan to properly talk with his Padawan for the following morning had also been crammed into a freighter and set into hyperspace when he'd realized that Anakin had unplugged his alarm. (Very thoughtful of his Padawan. Inconvenient, but very thoughtful...)

Of course, he'd discovered that he'd overslept (and how! It was the lunch hour!) when someone was pounding at his door demanding to see him right away. Obi-Wan had barely had time to slip his boots on and certainly wasn't awake when he'd opened the door and one of Anakin's teachers had grabbed him and started dragging him to the dining hall to have a talk with his very young Padawan. The teacher was apparently fed up with Anakin falling asleep in class (and which class had that been? Obi-Wan hadn't been conscious enough to remember...) and was intent on having a discussion about proper Jedi behavior as soon as possible.

Obi-Wan had been desperately trying to wake himself up (he hadn't even had his morning tea...) when another Knight had come over to explain that Anakin had apparently been caught sneaking out of the Temple (Again? Sigh...) and that he'd assigned Obi-Wan's Padawan to kitchen duty for the remainder of the week. And through it all, with Obi-Wan still trying to get his brain back online, Anakin was getting more and more upset.

For all that Anakin struggled with meditation and using the bond, whenever he was feeling something strongly, he could naturally tap into their connection with the same brilliance and ease he did with focusing on podracing. _That_ had been enough to break through Obi-Wan's sleepy haze and focus. Not on the two Jedi trying to explain things to him, but on his Padawan who was struggling with a great deal of anger and frustration.

And, much to Obi-Wan's pride, Anakin's instinctual reaction had been to try and release it to the Force. It had been too much feeling (how long had this been left festering?), but Anakin hadn't thought about what to do, he'd just tried to do it. And Obi-Wan was so pleased by it. But the first thing he needed to address was that all-powerful frustration and festering negative feelings. Obi-Wan wasn't sure what had gone wrong. Suddenly his Padawan had burst out in anger (as was his tendency, unfortunately) and run away.

He'd been left to deal with the two Jedi (which he _didn't_ want to deal with when he had a Padawan who was _still_ radiating such upset) and patiently listen to what they had to say and mediating the situation. ("I don't know the full story yet, but I assure you I'll deal with it.") and contacting his afternoon teachers to let them know Anakin would be absent before he could _finally_ track down his Padawan and do what he'd wanted to do since he returned to the Temple.

Obi-Wan had to admit, his time away had given his Padawan time to cool down, and his emotions weren't quite so turbulent. But he still didn't expect much of a reaction once he knocked on the door. He merely waited a moment before palming it open.

Anakin's room was a mess. The sheets of his sleep couch had been ripped off and flung across the room; a stack of datapads and chips looked to have been swept off the desk by an arm, and a soft set of plush pillows that he and Anakin had been using for levitation exercises looked to have been kicked across the room and stomped on.

His young Padawan was sprawled on his sleep-couch, an arm slung over his eyes, looking as exhausted and worn as Obi-Wan had been when he got back to Temple the previous day. Obi-Wan couldn't be sure, but there appeared to be dried tear tracks on Anakin's face, and the feeling along the bond was just numb.

He took a moment, moved his Padawan's legs aside, and sat down beside him. Anakin didn't respond. So, with a little hesitation, Obi-Wan reached over, and pulled his young Padawan up into a hug. Anakin let out a soft sigh, a sniffle, and loosely wrapped his arms around his master. They sat there together for a while as Obi-Wan struggled to figure out what to do.

After a moment, Obi-Wan let out another breath. "So, Anakin. How has your week been?"

The child mumbled something into Obi-Wan's tunic.

"I didn't quite catch that," he said quietly.

"It doesn't matter."

"It rather matters to me."

"Hasn't everyone already told you?" huffed Anakin sullenly.

"I don't want to know what other people say about what happened this week. I want to know what _you_ have to say."

His Padawan looked up to him, blue eyes almost measuring, before sitting back and launching into a thorough account of how his week had been. Thorough, snarky, sarcastic, and sullen. Obi-Wan's eyebrows raised at various points and he was utterly _amazed_ at how much had happened to Anakin over the very brief time he'd been away on a mission. And, because Anakin had such difficulty with meditation, it was no wonder that such frustrations had been left festering until his angry release at the dining hall.

As Anakin drew to a close in the tale of his harrowing week, he stared down at his sleep-couch.

Obi-Wan let out a small chuckle. "Anakin, remind me to tell you some time about the week my Master and I spent on Viety II. There may be no luck, only the Force, but there are times when all Jedi wonder why everything that can go wrong, does."

This did not seem to help Anakin one bit, as his Padawan merely crossed his arms. But Obi-Wan had felt a flicker of curiosity along the bond, and so he sought for more distractions.

"You know, I don't think your week went quite as badly as you seem to think."

"Yeah, right."

"I've noticed a few good things that I don't think you noticed."

"Like _what_?" Anakin demanded, looking up.

"For starters, how much your heart was in the right place." Obi-Wan sat back, smiling at Anakin. "You wanted to show me that you could be self-sufficient, like any Jedi, so you sought to get ahead in your crèche-work. And despite falling behind as more and more work was put on you, you are currently all caught up. I trust you understand all of it as well?"

Anakin nodded, still looking sullen, but Obi-Wan could feel that his praise was helping to lift Anakin's spirit. "Of course," he mumbled. "I've got a few questions on some of the subjects, but I get the overall concepts for those."

"As I expected. I'm sure that other Padawans or Initiates would have struggled a great deal more than you under similar circumstances."

He leaned forward. "And that answer you gave to Master Yoda in class, _was_ correct. A little unorthodox, certainly, but you're rather an unorthodox Jedi. My Master certainly would be enjoying this. He always thought the Council needed to be shaken up a little from time to time."

That, finally, drew out a small smile.

Obi-Wan reached out and put a hand on his Padawan's shoulder. "And I _am_ sorry that I wasn't there for you when you had that dream. Know that if I could, I'd have returned in a heartbeat to help you." Because Anakin had lived enough suffering over the course of his life. And while life would always be filled with both good and bad situations, Obi-Wan wanted Anakin's time at the Temple to be filled with good times to balance out the bad ones he'd already been through.

"Also, despite everything you've been going through this week, you haven't spoken out or gotten angry at any of your teachers or that Knight who caught you sneaking out. You've been controlling that temper of yours and that is magnificent progress. I understand how difficult it can be to do nothing but accept things when you see something that you _know_ is unfair."

Obi-Wan smiled. "And just now, when all of this feeling was swirling around you and becoming too much to bear, you instinctually tried to release it to the Force. Very good, Anakin. Very good indeed."

His Padawan finally looked up with a small grin that was growing and along the bond, Obi-Wan could feel that Anakin was feeling a little better.

"Knowing your week through this new light," Obi-Wan leaned back again, crossing his arms, "can you tell me were your mistakes were?"

Anakin gave a brief scowl before sitting up and looking at him in the eye. "I should not have tried to sneak out of the Temple, Master," he replied. "It was wrong to and if I needed distractions from what was going on, I should have sought out something else."

Obi-Wan nodded. "You'll stay on kitchen duty this week. However, I think it's time we redouble our efforts with meditation for you. Releasing will help you better than just distracting yourself from the problem."

There was a quiet groan, but Anakin continued. "I should not have gone to class when I was as tired as I was. That was just asking for trouble. I should have told him I wasn't feeling well and gone to the Halls of Healing. They might have helped me get some sleep so that I wouldn't be so exhausted for the rest of the day."

"Excellent, Anakin."

There was a loud rumble, and Obi-Wan _knew_ he was blushing. After all, he hadn't eaten anything since the previous day.

Anakin looked up with a grin. "Dinner, Master?"

"Yes, that rather sounds like a good idea."

* * *

Anakin was wondering what was in store for him. It had been three days since Obi-Wan had finally returned and things were once more settling into the normal of everyday Temple life. Anakin was still on kitchen duty, his evenings were now spent entirely devoted to meditation practice with Obi-Wan, and he was (somehow) remaining caught-up on his crèche-work. But Obi-Wan seemed to be radiating something very positive. Anakin couldn't get a good read on it, due to his inability to properly access the bond (and _when_ would that be again?) and he was beginning to feel a bit nervous about it.

The previous evening, Obi-Wan had asked if Anakin had any plans for the following day and Anakin had said no. Then Obi-Wan had _grinned_ and politely asked that Anakin keep it that way. As far as Anakin could tell, Obi-Wan had something _planned_ for that day. And after so much time meditating and guiding him on how to release feelings to the Force and discussions on how the Force helped once properly connected, Anakin felt a fair amount of dread. He had a sneaking suspicion that because today was a free day for him, he was about to get a massive headache with attempted meditations.

Breakfast had gone quietly and normally, save for the _massive_ grin that Obi-Wan was sporting. After all, this was _Obi-Wan_. He didn't show anything other than Jedi calm. So Anakin felt he had good reason to be suspicious. If Watto ever sported such a huge smile, it usually meant massive trouble for Anakin, so he was very wary when Obi-Wan started clearing their plates.

"Padawan?" his master said cheerfully. "Would you please accompany me?"

And thus, Anakin knew his fate was sealed. Whenever Obi-Wan said _that_, he usually dragged Anakin off somewhere for more intensive studying. And given the focus on meditation, well Anakin didn't need the Force to see his future. He was pretty much doomed. So he quietly agreed and followed his master out of their quarters.

At first, Anakin thought they were going to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, as his master had a clear preference for the peaceful atmosphere. But when they blew right by it, he merely blinked and thought they might be going to one of the many gardens.

Yet they didn't. They took a left instead of a right and headed for a lift.

This was... strange. Where in the Temple was his master taking him?

They got off at an unfamiliar floor and Anakin blinked as he followed a pace behind his master, wondering where they were going and what was going on. They stopped just outside a door.

"Now, Padawan," Obi-Wan said, a distinct twinkle in his eye, "when I was your age, this was perhaps one of my favorite rooms in the Temple. And, unless I'm very much mistaken, this will likely be one of your favorites as well."

Anakin glanced at the door, suspicious but confused.

"Go on in."

Frowning, Anakin cautiously stepped forward and reached for the panel to palm. He paused, looking back to Obi-Wan, who was _still_ grinning like an idiot. So, with an internal roll of his eyes, he quickly palmed the panel to get the big mystery out of the way.

_No way..._

Inside were students. Lots and lots of students. From years younger than him all the way up to Masters. And they were all engaged in the same subject, one that Anakin had been left wondering when _he'd_ get the chance to start.

There were hums, snaps, hisses, and the occasional flying spark as lightsabers clashed in demonstrations, practices, and outright spars. And floating in front of his face, was a training saber.

"I rather think it's time you started learning," Obi-Wan said behind him, "don't you?"

Anakin could only nod dumbly as he reached forward to take the practice saber.

This was the _Best Day Ever_!

**

* * *

Author's Note**: ^_^ We've all had weeks like this.

*ahem* In any event, since a lot of this fic is contemplative and serious, we needed some humorous fluff. Anakin's sarcasm was incredibly easy since the way he relates his week is exactly how we explain things to each other. Of course, our sense of humor can be something of an acquired taste, so we can hope this translates as well in non-enunciated text as it is when in full sarcastic-toned fury.

This is also a nice little pick-me-up after the somewhat sour note the previous chapter ended on.

Next time: A subtle change that isn't so subtle, but very, very necessary to our line of thinking. (Thus, turning this to an AU... As if it wasn't already...)


	8. Where Marriage Is Discussed

**Where Marriage is Discussed**

His Padawan was going to be the death of him. Granted, Obi-Wan had come to realize this some time ago as his Padawan continued to somehow drop trouble by the freighter-full at his feet. Anakin's recklessness and desire to help anyone and everyone that was so much like Master Qui-Gon led to all sorts of predicaments and challenges. This was nothing new. Obi-Wan knew, with dead certainty, that Anakin would be the death of him.

He just had no idea that it would be death through mortification.

"I'm sorry... what?" Obi-Wan asked, _praying_ he'd heard that wrong.

"If I'm going to marry Padme one day, how do Jedi marriages work?"

No, Obi-Wan had heard that right.

Dear Force, _please_ let someone else have already explained the facts of life. Anakin was eleven years old, certainly his biology classes had started to cover some of this material?

... Then again, given Jedi views of attachments, maybe not...

It was times like this that Obi-Wan wished he didn't have so much red in his hair. His whole face was burning and he just _knew_ he was red from his neck all the way to his roots, as Bruck Chun had often teased him about back when he'd been just an Initiate.

"Master, are you okay?"

Right, Anakin still needed an answer... _Why does it have to be _me_ to answer that?_

"Padawan, attachments are..."

Obi-Wan trailed off, his embarrassment fading away as he looked at his Padawan and felt along their training bond. Anakin wasn't looking at... _that_ aspect of marriage. He was a child in love and had always learned that people in love would marry. (Something Obi-Wan would have to thank Shmi for. Not many beings seemed to like the idea of being dedicated to only one person...) He sat back, running a hand along his chin. Anakin was not Temple-raised, and he'd promised himself back when he'd first learned that his Padawan couldn't even read Basic, that he would remember that and treat Anakin appropriately. Anakin didn't know the things that he and other Jedi took for granted. Such things needed to be explained, in explicit detail, for his Padawan to understand.

"Master?" Anakin was looking at him utterly puzzled, and getting annoyed that he wasn't getting an answer.

"Anakin, might I have a week to research this?"

The boy scowled, no doubt thinking Obi-Wan was dodging the question.

Obi-Wan reached out and put a hand on a small shoulder. "Anakin, you deserve a complete answer for that. If you were to ask any other Jedi here at the Temple, they'd all give you the same answer, and I can guarantee that the answer is completely inadequate for you. Allow me a week to research a few things that I know of, but don't know about, and I can give you a far more adequate answer."

"Fine," Anakin grumbled. They went back to their meal in an awkward silence. Obi-Wan let the silence be. He had a _lot_ to meditate on this evening...

* * *

So it was, one week later, that Obi-Wan guided Anakin to their common room after dinner to discus things properly.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, seeking a moment to clear his mind to properly talk about all the points he needed to, hopefully without boring his Padawan senseless. So, with a deep breath, he looked at Anakin.

"I have done a lot of research and I have quite a bit to say. I ask that you not interrupt me with questions for the moment, and just listen."

There was burning curiosity in his Padawan, and Obi-Wan hoped that it would work to his advantage.

"You asked me about Jedi and marriage. I almost told you the same thing that any other Jedi in this Temple would have told you. 'Attachments are forbidden.' " Anakin scowled, unsurprisingly. "I told you that the answer would be inadequate," Obi-Wan offered a small smile.

Anakin gave a tiny chuckle and Obi-Wan continued.

"For all that we say we don't have attachments, there _are_ Jedi who marry. Most have been in our older history, but there are Jedi today who are happily married and with children."

His Padawan perked up at this.

"After all, only the Sith deal in absolutes. Most married Jedi you will find are Corellian. I've commed several over the week and spoken to them to get an idea of how marriage works for Jedi. You see-"

Anakin interrupted. "You didn't tell them about me and Padme did you?" he demanded.

"No Anakin, I did not mention Padme. I merely said that I had a Padawan who was doing a research project and I wanted some information from them so that I could properly look over his work."

There was a sigh of relief.

"Might I continue then?"

Anakin nodded. "Yes, Master, sorry for interrupting you."

Obi-Wan smiled. He certainly had his Padawan's attention. He hoped it would last.

"Before I get in depth with marriage, I'm gong to side-track to something else that's related to it, alright?"

Anakin nodded again.

_Here we go._ "Jedi, especially here at this Temple, frown on marriage. It is considered a great danger for a Jedi to fall in love, because there is a danger of the Darkside."

"Huh?" Anakin asked, his face scrunching up in confusion. "But Jedi are supposed to love everyone."

"Not quite. We are compassionate to everyone, as you already are. We wish for everyone to be happy and looked after. By spreading this compassion to everyone, there is little danger of the Darkside. But when a Jedi starts to fall in love... A moment Anakin, I want this to be clear."

Obi-Wan sat back, closing his eyes again, seeking the right path to take. Something about this conversation was important, and he wanted to be sure he was as clear and precise as possible.

"Padawan, you understand that there are many types of love, right?"

Anakin looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Of course! I don't love Padme like I love my Mom!"

"Ah, but do you know the difference between a selfish love and a selfless love?"

That brought the boy up short.

Obi-Wan gave a small chuckle. "The best example of a selfless love that I can give you is one that you already know very, very well. Your mother's love of you."

Anakin nodded, paying the strictest attention, and smiling at the mention of Shmi.

"Your mother wanted nothing but the best for you. She tried to provide it at every opportunity she could, correct? And by doing so, she gave you up to the Jedi so that you could lead a better life. Her own wants and needs were immaterial to her because her priority was _you_." Obi-Wan leaned back. "She truly is a remarkable woman."

He felt the swell of pride that Anakin had for his mother, but also some confusion on where this was all going.

"When a Jedi wishes to marry someone, a Jedi should make sure that their love is that same selfless type of love." He held his Padawan's eye. "Do you want Padme to be happy?"

"Of course!"

"What if she was happy being married to someone else?"

Anakin was brought up short again, clearly having never entertained the possibility.

"A selfless love would be happy that Padme was happy, even if she was with someone else."

He paused, giving Anakin a moment to think about this. It was a lot to take in, and Obi-Wan still had more to explain, _much_ more to explain. He waited another moment before continuing.

"The unfortunate thing is, when many beings start to fall in love, it can become a mix of both selfless and selfish. For most, that isn't a problem unless the selfish starts to become too large a part. For a Jedi, selfish love is _extremely_ dangerous."

"How so?"

"The more one falls in love with someone, the more emotional investment you put into that person. After a while, one can start thinking, 'Shouldn't I start to get something back?' And that's where the dangers lie for Jedi. If you've spent years chasing after someone that you've loved and they reject you, and if you feel that you've earned at least _something_ from them, it can lead to many bad things. For many beings, this leads to a lot of pain, anger, a sense of loss. In really bad situations, with really bad beings, this might lead to forcing something."

Anakin scowled. "I'd _never_ force Padme into anything she doesn't want!" he declared vehemently.

"I can only hope so. You're young, Anakin. In many ways, that makes the love you feel for Padme more pure than what an adult can feel." And Obi-Wan was _not_ going to discuss _that_ aspect of things in this conversation. No way. "I doubt any Jedi would go that far. But the feelings of pain, anger, even the fear of rejection, those are the danger for Jedi." Obi-Wan let out a small sigh. "Jedi have a great deal of power because we have such connection to the Force. We can do things no other being can do. And if we Fall, we can do more damage than an army."

He closed his eyes and took a small breath. "It is why most Jedi don't marry. We wish to avoid getting sucked into Darkness." He paused a moment, considering his words again. "There is also the concern that if a loved one dies, what happens to the Jedi? Qui-Gon was like a father to me and I came very close to touching the Darkside." _Far too close_. "It must be even worse when you lose someone you've fallen in love with, someone you wish to spend your life with, someone you'd do anything to make happy."

Anakin's jaw dropped.

"But... but..."

"As my master always told me, 'One must love with an open heart', Anakin. When Qui-Gon died, it was apparent that I still haven't learned that lesson. A Jedi must accept that everyone will die eventually. We try and ensure that everyone will die of old age after a long and happy life, but there will always be things outside of our control. So that when someone important to us is lost, we mourn and grieve, and let that feeling into the Force. It will take time, and it will not be instantaneous, but it will help eventually. If someone we love does not love us back, we must accept that the person is happy with the choice they made. We will mourn and grieve, perhaps, for what might have been, but then we will be happy that the person we love is happy."

Obi-Wan leaned back. "Because Jedi are selfless. And if we fall in love, it _must_ be a selfless love. Otherwise, the danger we pose to our fellow beings if things go wrong is too great."

His Padawan sat there, his mind awhirl with thoughts flying to fast for him to even process, let alone for Obi-Wan to get a grasp of.

"It's a lot to think about, Anakin. If, when you grow up, you still love Padme, and it's a selfless love... If she loves you back and the two of you both wish to be married, I'll try to help you. But there's a long time between then and now."

He stood, leaving Anakin to his thoughts. "I hope I have answered your question adequately, Anakin."

The child barely nodded.

**

* * *

Author's Notes**: Clearly, this is an important "subtle" change. A lot of Anakin's pursuit of Padme is actually rather selfish, and while we do believe that he loves her, he borders on obsessive. This _needs_ to be addressed. This is very much a conversation that Anakin will keep revisiting in his head and meditations, wondering what he feels for Padme and how it would work if they don't marry. (Because he _knows_ he's going to marry her from the moment he first met her...) Unfortunately, he still has Palpatine next door whispering in his ear about how it's okay to take what you want, etc.

This also shows how, for our subtle changes, Obi-Wan is more cognizant of the fact that Anakin isn't Temple-raised and adjusts accordingly. We both think that Anakin didn't really get such thorough explanations such as this originally. He would have gotten a blanket statement of "Attachments are forbidden" and no real reasons as to why. Obi-Wan might have gotten into it, only with a great deal of awkwardness and stammering. While here he still has the awkwardness, he deals with it a little better by giving himself some time to figure out how to word it and actually doing a little research.

And, as of this chapter being posted, we have _finally_ finished the finale of this massive story. _pant pant_ The two of us are quite excited about when it finally gets posted (easily a year from now at least, with how bloody long this is...) We still need to go back and tweak a few things, but it's nice to have such a large story done. Now we can let our imaginations rest and start thinking of new ideas. It's a long journey between here and the end, and we hope all of you enjoy.

Next chapter: We peak at how Palpatine continues to influence young Anakin and Obi-Wan's unknowing attempts to counter.


	9. Where Opinions Differ

**Where Opinions Differ**

"Oh, welcome my boy, welcome! Come, have a seat Anakin. My goodness I haven't seen you in weeks. How have you been?"

Eleven-year-old Anakin did as he was told, grabbing a chair and pulling it behind the desk of the most venerated man in the Senate: Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. He was an older man, though not quite enough to be considered "old," just "older." The grandfatherly figure always insisted that Anakin didn't need to sit on the other side of his opulent desk, to instead sit behind it with him, as an equal; great men, he said, needed to know their station above others. This sometimes confused Anakin, and he would scratch as his browning head, his blond fading to streaks, because the Jedi said that _everyone_, regardless of their station of abilities or powers, were equal. The young Padawan knew this wasn't true, because he had never been treated with any level of equality when he was a slave. Today, though, he hopped onto his chair and swung his legs back and forth.

"My, you seem to have grown even in the short time that I've last seen you."

"Master says I'm growing, too," Anakin said with some pride. He was already the tallest Padawan he knew, and it made him smile. "Master Obi-Wan says I'll look like a bean sprout, whatever that is."

"It's a type of plant, Anakin, and I dare say Master Kenobi certainly had the right idea."

"How's the Senate stuff?" Anakin asked, always entertained by the stories Palpatine told.

Palpatine looked left and right conspiratorially, putting an elbow on his knee and using his hand to cover his mouth as he leaned into Anakin's ears. "May I tell you a secret, Anakin?" he asked in a low whisper.

The boy leaned in fervently, excited at the very idea. "Sure!" he whispered back.

"It's very, _very_, boring!"

Palpatine leaned back and laughed heartily as Anakin pouted in indignation. "Do forgive me, my boy, but that was very entertaining!" he said, still laughing in refined dignity. He leaned deeper into his chair and put a hand over his eyes, rubbing a temple as if to forestall a headache.

Anakin frowned, his legs still, as he looked at Palpatine. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Palpatine looked up, his warm smile slightly weary. "Oh, it's nothing to fret over, my boy."

"No, tell me; I want to help."

"You're such a good boy. I hope Master Kenobi can see what a strong heart you have, your passion for helping others," Palpatine said. He pulled his hand away and rested it on his desk, fingers playing with a flimsy of some sort. The older man frowned, as if thinking how to word something. "Tell me, Anakin," he said slowly, his mind still far away. "Which to you think is better, having control of things around you? Or having control of yourself?"

The boy frowned, fingers reaching up to play with his braid. "I don't know," he said finally.

"Hm, few would, I suppose," Palpatine replied. "There's a bill on the floor that some senator has put forth, trivial business, really, but one of the points of the bill is to diffuse the powers of my office into committees. Truly, it shouldn't even be a point of contention, but for some reason it is cause for heated debate and filibuster. It all revolves around that question, which is better to have control of."

Anakin nodded slowly, motioning for the Supreme Chancellor to continue.

"If there's one thing I've learned after Naboo's crisis that you were so heroic in, it's that the Senate needs strong leadership. For some reason they think that would be me, and I'm more than honored to do it, but it has left me wondering on which side I should favor for this point of the bill."

"You mean you don't know either?"

"It's a question of power, really," Palpatine explained. "Do you need power to control yourself or power to control the events around you? As Supreme Chancellor, I have the power to shape the events around me, and because I have the Republic's best interest at heart, I can shape events that make such a thing so. Is it a good idea to relinquish such a power? Or should I have the self-control to let it go, and no longer be able to do any good? It is a difficult question for me.

"Well, regardless, it's irrelevant right now. I'm sorry to bore you with my trivial problems. How have you been?"

* * *

Later that night, Anakin sat at the dinner table frowning as he considered the Chancellor's words. He tried to look at it from a Jedi perspective, but he had only been at the Temple for a couple of years, he didn't feel confident in his understanding of their perspectives. Obi-Wan was always telling him ways to improve himself, he never _quite_ got some teaching or form or answer to a question right.

"... Master?" he asked. He normally didn't like speaking his thoughts; he agreed with Palpatine's idea that some thoughts are supposed to be private. But this was important, and he wanted to know what the Jedi were supposed to say.

"Yes, Padawan?" the master replied, rubbing his beard.

"Palpatine-"

"Supreme Chancellor Palpatine."

"Supreme Chancellor Palpatine," Anakin corrected himself, mentally rolling his eyes. There was a knee-jerk reaction to shut down and stomp out of the room, but the weight on the Chancellor's shoulders impressed itself upon him, and he knew that he needed to ask in spite of his master's attitude.

"Master? Which is better? To have control of the events around you or have control over yourself?" He took a deep breath, waiting.

At first, Obi-Wan just looked at him, that carefully blank look that always drove him nuts. Finally, though, he opened his mouth. "This is an interesting question. What makes you ask it?"

... No immediate lecture? He had finally asked a question that was worthy of his master's thoughts? Anakin found himself reveling at the very thought, and he couldn't quite fight off the smile that he had managed this kind of reaction from his composed master.

He replied, "Pal - Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, he was telling me about a bill on the Senate floor, and that it would take some of the power away from him. He asked me that question."

Obi-Wan nodded, his blank face still far away, considering. "Do you have your own opinion yet?"

... Why oh _why_ did he _always_ answer a question with _another question_? It was _infuriating!_ Anakin ran a hand through his browning head and wrapped a fist around his braid, huffing out an empty breath. "I don't know," he said with a strained air of indifference.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't ask if you didn't want an answer to compare against your own, Anakin. I want to give you a proper answer, but I need to know what your opinion is first."

It galled him on many levels - if Obi-Wan had an answer then he should just spit it out. But he was his _master_; he supposed he should capitulate - just this once.

"I think it's obvious that you want to control the events around you," he said. He knew first hand what it was like to _not_ have control of what was around him. Life as a slave was about as far of having control as it could get - _everything_ was at the dictates of the Master: from food and water rations to the amount of work to the consequences of getting even one tiny little thing wrong. Watto was not the worst master by any stretch, but he was far from the best, the demands he put on Anakin were high, he spent many late nights that were often doubled when the boy exerted his independence and snuck out for fun with his friends. He saw and endured beatings simply because he was a slave and someone _could_. He was always striving to have control over any little thing he had. That was what podracing originally was, something that was _his_ that he could _do_ that no one could control. Even that had been spoiled because Watto had found out and horned in.

Even now, at the Temple, he had very little control over things. There were classes and schedules, he had no control over when or where or what the missions were (and he _still_ hadn't gone on any! What were they _waiting_ for?). When he got up and what was for breakfast and how he was trained was all up to Obi-Wan. There were days where Anakin was absolutely desperate for control, and the idea of having enough power that you could control events around you had a great deal of appeal.

If he could control what was around him, then he could make people happy. He could be happy himself.

Obi-Wan's expression remained blank, far away. Anakin did not explain himself to his master, he didn't want to and he rationalized that he didn't need to; Obi-Wan knew everything anyway.

Finally, the Jedi took a breath. "It's a difficult question to answer," he said finally, his gaze at last pulling to the present and locking his eyes onto Anakin. The boy found himself staring back, pulled into the man's orbs. "There are advantages of one over the other, but I think..." He paused, frowning, as if choosing his words.

"I think, ultimately, I would like to be in control over myself."

... Of course he would pick the opposite answer; a thrill of irritation shot through the back of Anakin's head, but Obi-Wan kept talking, and he kept listening.

"The idea of having control over events around you certainly has appeal, and certainly there are some things that you do have control over, but one cannot control _all_ circumstances." Obi-Wan's eyes glazed suddenly, and his voice became flatter. "I had no control over the events that led up to Qui-Gon's death. I didn't have control over Cerasi's death either, though I left the Order to try. Bruck..." he paused, closing his eyes. "There are many events in my life that I had no control over, and there are more events to come that will likely follow that inevitability. It comes in conflict, too; if I had control over everything around me, that would mean I have control over you, and I certainly know you wouldn't like that." He smiled slightly, the effect not quite reaching his eyes, and Anakin wondered what the man was thinking.

"One would have to be all-powerful, and even with the Force that is just impossible.

"However... To have control over yourself, that _is_ something you can do, and when such a thing is mastered, the events you have no control over... How do I explain this?" He paused, frowning again, but his eyes never left Anakin; they were penetrating in a way that sometimes happened, making the boy feel like he could see straight to his soul, to his innermost thoughts that he didn't share with _anybody_, even Palpatine.

"When you have control over yourself," Obi-Wan finally said. "You can _decide_ how you will react to the events you have no control over. You can _decide_ what you will do with the tragedies that life can and will give you; to fall and never get up, or mourn and move on. When that happens," he added, "in a way, the events you have no control over become almost irrelevant, because the most critical thing of all, yourself, you do have control over, and suddenly, it affects you much less. Or rather, you have control over how it affects you which means it doesn't affect you until you allow it."

Obi-Wan paused, rubbing his stubble again, frowning. "I'm not entirely sure if I'm explaining this well. Do you understand my meaning?"

Anakin nodded dumbly. In truth, there were parts he understood all too well and parts he didn't understand at all. There were levels, undercurrents that he couldn't quite follow and layers that still seemed veiled to him.

It was a conversation that he would always remember, something in Obi-Wan's words sticking deep in his mind, and later he would often reflect on it. Even when he was fully-grown, he would never quite understand why having control over self was better than control over events around a person.

But he knew exactly what it looked like, because all he had to do was look at Obi-Wan.

**

* * *

Author's Notes:** I hope to goodness this came out as good as it did in my head. It's one of the critical differences between Anakin and Obi-Wan, but where it's completely untouched (in so far as we know...) in the universe we wanted Anakin to at least _see_ it, even if he couldn't identify it. He could point to it, even if he couldn't articulate it. It's really important in our heads, and we hope that it came across remotely right.

This also serves as a reminder that as good a job as Obi-Wan is doing in raising Anakin at this point, Palpatine is still chipping at the foundation and making all the cracks he needs for Revenge of the Sith. Not that it will go the way Palpatine wants (oh no, we have_ plans_... ^^) but he _does_ have influence on dear little Ani. We start with simple steps, small nudges that build until you get to Ep3 and things start going _very_ differently.

Next time: Ob-Wan comes home injured.


	10. Where Family Means Everything

**Where Family Means Everything**

Anakin stood in the hanger of the Temple, where an air cab was stopping off. He had been waiting there all morning for his Master to return. Since Anakin was still considered too young to go out on missions (which he completely disagreed with - look at what he did at Naboo and he was only _nine_ then) his Master was occasionally sent out on missions alone if no one else was available.

Anakin understood this, but he was never happy about it. Their small quarters seemed empty and lonely without Obi-Wan meditating or cajoling him or helping with his crèche-work. Thus, since his Master was due back this morning, Anakin was waiting. He was still poking at his work, but he was getting worried. It was getting closer to the lunch and none of the transports had produced his Master.

All Anakin could do was wait.

By afternoon, he'd given up doing any work and just watched the traffic for any transport that might be heading their way. Master Windu had spoken to him briefly, saying that the ship coming to Corusant had been delayed. Anakin had only nodded. Something was wrong.

It was well after the dinner hour when Anakin felt something. Something bad.

His eyes locked on an ambulance as it quietly landed in the hanger. He was on his feet and moving before he was even aware of it. There was no one else on the platform that he saw, but it seemed irrelevant because his attention was focused solely on the ambulance and what was, who was, inside. Anakin was about to burst inside when the back of the transport opened and a medic stepped out.

"Master?" Anakin called, trying to look past the Twi'lek medic.

"Ah, Anakin," came the calm, cultured response, and the Padawan finally pushed past the Twi'lek.

In the ambulance was his master on a hover-stretcher. His tunic was covered in blood and rips, burns almost artistically dotting the few clear spots on him. It was horrifying. He heard a strangled cry and realized it was his own voice as he climbed in - scrambled really - to see his master more closely.

"Master?" he cried out. "What happened?" The question wasn't nearly satisfactory, but it was all his brain could put together and push through his panic.

"It's nothing, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, a gentle smile touching his smeared face. He reached out, a little tentatively, to touch his shoulder. It wasn't a hug, but it would do. Anakin saw the crisp white of a bandage under the tunic and he saw a deep cut along his master's collarbone that was yet untreated.

"It's not '_nothing_'!" he choked out. A second medic, vaguely human, stepped in to adjust the IVs that trailed down to his Master's other arm.

"I don't want to worry you, Padawan; I really am fine."

He stared at his master, his mind almost blank, before an extended string of curse words in both Basic and Huttese started flying out of his mouth, causing both medics to flush at the profanities as they continued to spew forth. "You're _not fine_!" he finally managed to put together. "And it's _too late_ for me to _not worry_! Don't keep things from me!"

"Padawan, could you step out so we can-" started the Twi'lek medic.

Anakin turned intense eyes to the Twi'lek. "What's wrong with him?" he demanded.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said in a tone that brooked no refusal. "Let them do their work."

"But-"

"Let me get _inside_ before you start firing questions," Obi-Wan said, raising a hand to quiet his apprentice. Then he turned to the human medic. "Really, a stretcher? I _can_ walk you know."

"Begging your pardon, Master Jedi, but you can't, and it's procedure. Where's your Temple team?"

"Here now," the Twi'lek said, tugging at the stretcher to pull Obi-Wan out of the ambulance. Anakin turned, seeing a Mon Calamari rush up with a kit in hand. He had time to hear his master whisper, "Oh, dear," before Bant gasped and stepped forward.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi! What kind of trouble did you get into now?"

Anakin turned to his Master and matched Bant's glare with one of his own.

The Jedi Knight let out a long sigh. "Might we discuss this once I've been checked out?"

Anakin nodded. "Fine!" And he sat by Obi-Wan's side on the stretcher. "But you're not ditching me that easily!"

Obi-Wan let out a sigh while Bant hid a covert smile. "Walk with us, Anakin," she said gently. He felt her use the Force to lift the stretcher and Obi-Wan let out a severely put-upon sigh.

"I _can_ walk," he muttered.

"Obi-Wan, your Master and your Padawan drag you into trouble all the time. The _one_ mission you get alone and you _still_ manage to find trouble to land you in my care. _No_, you're not walking." Anakin bit back a chuckle that the medics let out.

It was with much grumbling that Bant and the two medics brought Obi-Wan to the Healer's Ward. Anakin didn't leave his Master's side. On the way he was able to piece together some of what had happened from the questions Bant was asking that both Obi-Wan and the medics answered. The mission itself went very smoothly. Just coming back to the Temple, however, had proved to be difficult. The transport had been attacked by Togorian pirates when they dropped out of hyperspace. Things got _interesting_ when the pirates realized Jedi were onboard and decided to get vicious.

After the pitched battle, their ship had limped into Coruscant orbit before crashing at the spaceport and Obi-Wan - already injured - did the stupidly heroic thing and tried to help rescue the passengers. This included running into the burning ship - twice - when the Force told him more people were inside.

It was at that point Anakin threw decorum out the window and hit his Master on the head. "Master, are you _stupid_? Think about what you put us through!" Think about what he put _him_ through: the panic, the horror of thinking his beloved master (and did he really just call him beloved?) had been hurt with his Padawan nowhere around to protect him? What was _wrong_ with him?

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, holding a hand to his temple, "I deeply appreciate your concern, but it would be nice if you didn't shout quite so loud..."

Anakin froze, unaware that he had been broadcasting through their training bond. He had never done it subconsciously before; he'd always had to work to use the link.

"It's because you are getting better, Padawan," Obi-Wan said with a smile, again reading his thoughts. He turned to Bant. "Can't I at least-"

"No," Bant said, and made her point by poking at his hip, causing the Jedi to hiss in pain. "Like I said, you can't walk." She turned to Anakin, her large eyes fixing on him. "Padawan," she said, "I'm going to give him an examination. We both know how private he is on these kinds of things; he can't do anything about me, but I suppose we'll have to give him some measure of comfort and have you wait outside. I'm sure you can spare him that particular embarrassment."

Obi-Wan started to say, "Can you please not talk as if I'm not-" but Anakin had already followed Bant's train of thinking and was adding a few points of his own. "Oh yes," he said in a great theatrical voice, "We wouldn't want the great Obi-Wan Kenobi, the mighty Sith Slayer himself, to feel the least bit of discomfort - especially considering all the discomfort he puts _me_ through on a daily basis. I mean, wow, the lectures in public, the corrections, the putdowns; he does everything in his power to cause _me_ embarrassment or discomfort it's only _natural_ that we should spare _him_ that kind of payback."

Obi-Wan's sour face was ruined because his complexion was turning bright red. Both Bant and Anakin laughed at his dour attitude; and Anakin gave a great put-upon sigh. "I guess I'll just have to go," he said, tugging theatrically at his heart before turning and stepping outside. When the door closed for Bant to get to work, however, the preteen sighed all the way down; his back bumped against the wall and he slid easily down to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chin and wrapping his hands around his ankles.

Closing his eyes, he took a slow, deep breath and tried to sink into a light meditation. Of his myriad of classes, meditation was perhaps one of the hardest. He knew _how_ to meditate, it just sometimes took an infuriatingly long time. Clearing one's head was not the easiest thing to do, and his head was always so full and loud it took a lot of effort to kick everything out and silence his mind enough to feel the things around him, to feel the Force. Deep meditation was even harder, and he often needed Obi-Wan's help in order to tug him down enough. His mind at the moment was full of the images of Obi-Wan in the ambulance, soiled with blood and burns and cuts, and the thought of how much more serious it could have been, of what _might_ have happened.

Finally relaxing, Anakin tried to examine his feelings (as Obi-Wan was constantly telling him to do). He had never felt so strongly; he'd almost panicked when he realized how hurt his master had been. There were so many emotions swirling around him, even through his bravado just now with Bant, and he tried to pick them apart and sort them. Anakin found himself suddenly thinking of his mother, and of the dream he sometimes had where she was smiling at him before breaking like glass. ...What brought that thought up? He tried to follow the trail, wondering why the idea of seeing his master so injured had conjured the image of his dream.

Obi-Wan was just another _Master_, after all, just another guy in charge of him, like Watto, right? Only, he didn't own Anakin, and he never exerted abuse or the threat of it over him (promises of extra meditation aside). He was more of a teacher, ever since he showed Anakin how to better learn written language he always answered any questions Anakin had - even if his answer wasn't always satisfactory. He was firm, strict in the worst sense, but he was always pushing Anakin further, always expecting him to be better. His high standards always kept him a cut above the other students; he was skilled to the point of being bored in his classes, always entering into debate just to see if he could squeeze _something_ out of it.

That's right, just a teacher...

Only, he remembered the surge of emotion he felt when on Naboo, when Padme had run off out of the hangar and straight into danger and him unable to help, and watching Qui-Gon (and Obi-Wan) furiously battle off a Sith - the helplessness, the desire to help and doing _something_, so he could protect the people he cared about.

... People he cared about?

He certainly cared about Padme - he was going to _marry_ her (... at least, if it made her happy he wanted to. He was still thinking about that). He thought about her every day and dared to think that he loved her. He cared for Qui-Gon too, he was the promise of a better life, the man who - like his mother - understood that he was special long before Obi-Wan ever did. Qui-Gon always believed in him, and Padme always paid attention to him (Him! A little slave boy!).

Obi-Wan... he did both. Once the two of them were comfortable with each other, Obi-Wan had done both of those things. The Jedi had finally realized his potential just before Qui-Gon's funeral, when the child explained exactly what he had done in his Naboo spaceship and answered every single question Obi-Wan had to offer. Since then, Anakin had heard that his Master had fought to teach Anakin, even though the troll Yoda refused to condone it. There were days when he overheard his Master talking to other masters or teachers, scolding him on what a poor job he was doing given his Padawan's proclivity towards trouble, or his arrogant attitude, or some other jibe at Anakin's character. He always answered the same:

"I wouldn't be teaching him if I didn't see how great a Jedi he is going to be."

It warmed him every time his Master said that.

His attention was constant and unyielding - whether Anakin wanted it or not - and he was a constant presence in everything Anakin did. Even when they were separate, like for the last several days because of the mission, the apprentice could always hear Obi-Wan's voice in his head, little mental reminders or tricks to do a lesson or ways to do meditation. It sort of reminded him of his mother's words of wisdom or rules that also ran through his head.

And that was when he realized it.

He... Obi-Wan... he was like his mother.

Anakin's eyes would have snapped open was he not so absorbed with the magnitude of his thoughts.

Anakin's feelings for Obi-Wan were like his feelings for his mother. Seeing Obi-Wan injured as he was reminded him of the dream he had, reminded him of his departure from Tatooine and the pain it caused him to leave his mother. The what ifs, the thought of loosing Obi-Wan, it... it... It petrified him. He couldn't fathom it. It was the same fear that gripped him when he thought about his mother, about not being near her in order to protect her.

Anakin already had a mother. But he was shocked to realize that he also had a father.

But that didn't quite fit right. Because if anyone had asked him, even that very morning, who he considered a father in his life, Anakin wouldn't hesitate to say Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon had _seen_ him and believed in him. He'd smiled at Anakin, held him, and seemed proud of him through the very brief lessons he'd given on their trip to Coruscant. Anakin's time with the Jedi Master was brief, but he very much considered Qui-Gon his "father" from that moment on. In a weird-Jedi-way that made Obi-Wan his brother.

That made sense... sort of. They could certainly argue like he imagined siblings might, because if Anakin considered Qui-Gon like a father, and Obi-Wan did too (as was clearly evidenced by how long his Master had mourned and grieved), that made them siblings. But Qui-Gon had died. So Obi-Wan had become a brother-turned-father.

Which was just as confusing...

Anakin stopped. Was there a point in debating with himself on just _what_ Obi-Wan was to him beyond the fact that, somewhere along the years they'd been together, Anakin had started to consider Obi-Wan as not just another teacher. But as family. Obi-Wan was his _family_. Like his mother was. Like Padme hopefully would be.

Obi-Wan was family...

It was a lot to wrap his head around. Anakin jerked out of meditation, unable to hold it as the realization started to wrap itself firmly around his mind and try to take root.

It was a good thing he came out of meditation, because a moment later, Bant came out, frowning. Upon seeing him, however, she smiled.

"Ah, Padawan, why don't you come in."

Anakin nodded quickly, wanting to see Obi-Wan, both with this new light and also to make sure that his master really _was_ alright.

Obi-Wan appeared to be asleep, his body deformed by bulging bandages around many areas of his body. A bandage was wrapped around his head, and a stray bacta patch was on his cheek, somehow sticking over his beard.

"Master?" he asked quietly, sitting on the bed and taking Obi-Wan's hand. "Master?"

Bant placed a webbed hand on his shoulder. "He's been sedated, he's just too stubborn for his own good sometimes."

Anakin nodded, knowing Obi-Wan's stubbornness all too well. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He'll be just fine," she replied gently.

"Is he in a healing trance?" Anakin had learned that Jedi could heal very fast, but he hadn't learned how yet and he'd never seen a Jedi slip into one.

"No," Bant answered, sitting down in a chair by the bed. "If he were to go into a trance, he'd be under for over a week given all the injuries he managed to sustain." She gave a small grin. "When I suggested he slip into a trance, he adamantly refused, saying you'd been left alone long enough."

Anakin gave a soft chuckle.

"He _will_ be in the bacta tank tomorrow for the burns and open wounds. From there, he can do small trances at night for his bones if he wants, but it will be a longer process. He has three cracked ribs and one of his ulnas is broken in three pieces. To say nothing of the crack on his skull."

He only gave a small nod. "But we can fix that at our quarters, right?"

Bant ran a hand through his hair. "I'll keep him another day after the bacta tank, just to make sure things get started right. Knowing Obi-Wan he'll politely complain and whine about it, and demurely try and wriggle out of it. But yes, you can take him home after that. Then you'll have the joyous task of looking over him instead of the other way around."

Anakin nodded, the enormity of everything weighing heavy on him. His master (family!) was going to be okay, but he'd need help. He wouldn't be the strong one; Anakin would have to be. Anakin couldn't be lazy; he'd have to do the work.

And that was fine. A lot to realize. But that was fine.

Because Obi-Wan would be fine...

* * *

The next morning, Anakin wandered blearily into Obi-Wan's small room in the Halls of Healing. He _despised_ early morning hours, but he's set his alarm deliberately. He knew that Obi-Wan was going to be in the bacta tank all day and any chance of actually _talking_ to his master would be gone once he was dunked. So the alarm had been set and Anakin brought a pot of tea that his master liked, surprised that he hadn't tumbled and shattered everything yet.

He probably didn't have to. Chances were that the kitchen staff had already sent up some tea and his master was already meditating or something. But Anakin wanted to be the one to do this. Obi-Wan had a routine in the morning. Tea and meditation. Breakfast with him and then duties. And if the routine was already broken because he wasn't back in their apartment, then Anakin would try to make it as normal as possible _in_ the Halls.

Given the horrid hour of the morning, nobody had been up to scold him for doing this. (Because really, everyone scolded him for everything... Except Obi-Wan...) The receptionist of the Halls of Healing blinked at him and merely smiled. That was fine for Anakin.

When he entered Obi-Wan's room, Anakin set down the tray and poured. His master was still asleep, but the smell of the tea seemed to rouse him.

Blinking, Obi-Wan reached up to rub his eyes, before grunting, realizing that he really _wasn't_ feeling well.

"Good morning, Master," Anakin said cheerfully. (Or at least, as cheerful as he could at this _awful_ hour...) "Your tea's ready."

Obi-Wan blinked again, his senses slowly coming online. He looked at the tea, looked at his barely-awake Padawan, and looked to his tea again. Anakin shifted nervously. He didn't like to admit it, but this sort of behavior _was_ unusual for him. He usually wasn't as... considerate. Because there was always something going on for him! It wasn't his fault someone was always yelling at him or giving him a displeased frown! He had his own problems! But... Obi-Wan needed him. Just like his mother would need him if she was sick. And he did these things for his mother. Why not do so for another member of his family?

There was silence for a moment and Anakin _still_ felt anxious. Was this really so strange for him? Maybe he shouldn't have done anything...

But then, Obi-Wan waved a finger and the bed adjusted itself to a seated position, and he opened his arms in clear invitation.

Anakin didn't need anything else. He didn't _dive_ forward, that would have hurt Obi-Wan, but he immediately hopped onto the bed and wrapped himself as gently and firmly around his master as he could. Obi-Wan hugged him close, his free arm that wasn't busted running a hand through his hair.

They just held each other for a while.

Obi-Wan mumbled into his hair, "Would you like to join me in meditation?"

Anakin nodded. "The color one?" So that he could see his master and how he was doing and _be_ with him and make sure he was alright.

"That sounds good."

Anakin reached for the gentle flow of the Force and let Obi-Wan pull him deeper in. The Padawan was amazed at how quickly he was able to follow his master down to that level. Sense of time was always skewed when meditating, but Anakin felt as though he'd gone unusually fast and wondered how he had managed to improve.

_The training bond seems to have grown stronger,_ Obi-Wan's presence seemed to say. _I could feel much emotion in you yesterday, turmoil and shock and... something else. I had hoped that I wouldn't frighten you that much._

Anakin frowned, sending out his question: _Do you know what that 'something else' was?_

_ No_, was Obi-Wan's feeling, _I was being sedated at the time._

Anakin suddenly found himself in fierce debate on whether to mention his little revelation with his master. To tell the man that he was family would no doubt have a positive effect on their relationship, Anakin already felt closer to Obi-Wan than he'd ever had before when just thinking of the Jedi as another Master; he could only imagine what such a tidbit of information would do for Obi-Wan. As soon as he thought that, however, he realized that he was talking about a _Jedi_; Jedi who were raised to believe that attachment was wrong, Jedi who frowned upon close relationships; Jedi who battered into his head every day that one must think of the greater good - and how would the greater good be affected when they realized that Anakin had an attachment to Obi-Wan, or that he hoped to everything in the Force that the opposite was true?

_You're feeling conflicted. Why?_

Anakin almost didn't answer, but finally, he sent out a piece of his feelings: _I realized something yesterday. I'm not sure if I should share it with you._

He waited tensely for Obi-Wan's response, trying to let all the beautiful colors around him distract his sudden anxiety.

Finally,

_I don't ever want you to feel uncomfortable in telling me something, Anakin. If you are uncertain, then I will wait until you are._

It was a measure of faith that Anakin had come to expect from his master: making the Padawan make his own decisions and simply waiting. The preteen didn't realize until at that moment just how much trust it must take Obi-Wan to grant that faith every single time. It made the decision on whether or not to tell him about his revelation even more important, because he did not want to violate that trust, and he did not want to hurt Obi-Wan with his feelings either.

He would seek council, someone who wasn't affiliated with the Jedi and could give an objective opinion.

He would go to Palpatine. That would help.

With that decided, he sent his confidence over to Obi-Wan, feeling his master smile with the assurance, and enjoyed the mediation. His day was going to be busy if he was going to be ready to look after his master while he recovered.

**

* * *

Author's Note**: This fic is a first. Normally when the two of us are writing a story, we'll pass off the keyboard from scene to scene. This drabble, however, was very much almost paragraph-by-paragraph trading. It was done on a loooong road trip with family, the two of us in the back seat just passing a pad back and forth before the eyestrain of reading/writing in a moving vehicle got too bad. It does feel a bit jumbled here and there, but has a basically good flow. Also, pay attention to the fact that Anakin realizing that Obi-Wan is part of his family strengthens the bond. Their bond and how it grows will be very important later on; this is just a precursor to it. And, of course, a reminder that Palpatine is next-door and whispering in Anakin's ear. Damn it.

Next week (yes, you read that right): Obi-Wan and Anakin's first mission together. Part 1.


	11. Where Missions Begin

**Where Missions Begin**

Anakin held himself in the most perfect posture he could muster and tried to firmly hold calm around him like a shield. Jedi were always calm, so he would be calm now. He _would_. Because inside he was practically shouting for joy, bouncing in eagerness, and oh-so ready to get going.

Why?

Because he and Obi-Wan were before the Council.

Now normally, this would be a cause for irritation for Anakin, because over his years at the Temple, if he got called to the carpet in front of the Council, it was because of something he'd done wrong. It was never his fault! (Not entirely, anyway...) The Council had never really liked him and he knew that. But they were Jedi. They wouldn't let their dislike of him color any judgments of him.

But this time, he wasn't before the Council because of some mishap. Nope. He and Master Obi-Wan were here for their first mission. Their first mission _together_.

Anakin was thrilled.

He wanted desperately to impress the Council. To show them that they weren't wrong to allow him to train, to show his Master that he could do anything that was asked of him. Obi-Wan was always so patient and understanding (even if he _did_ lecture non-stop and _always_ had him meditating...) and sometimes he seemed like the only Jedi in the Temple that understood that Anakin hadn't been raised there and thus, needed different explanations for things that most Jedi took for granted. Anakin couldn't have asked for a better Master, but he knew that the Council didn't support Anakin's training. So Anakin tried not to make trouble for his master. He rarely succeeded, but he _tried_. And he was going to do this _right_ so that everyone could see. See that he was more than just a special case that wasn't completely authorized. See that Obi-Wan was an excellent teacher and didn't need to be left in the lurch just because Anakin seemed to attract trouble.

So Anakin kept to the best posture and decorum he could.

"Welcome, young Obi-Wan and young Skywalker," Master Yoda greeted warmly.

"Masters," Obi-Wan bowed and Anakin mimicked him to perfection, saying nothing as a Padawan was not supposed to.

Master Windu leaned forward, arms on his knees, looking every bit as intimidating as he did when Anakin was first brought before the Council for testing. Anakin struggled briefly with his nervousness and tried to wrap calm around himself. Master Windu _always_ made him so nervous...

"There has been a request for Jedi assistance on one of the AgriCorps worlds," Master Windu explained. "It seems that the Hutts are trying to make a claim on some of the mines. The Governor of the planet wishes for a Jedi to mediate the dispute, else lose the progress made in the past fifteen years."

Anakin was already envisioning himself beating down the Hutts and kicking their evil slime across the galaxy. If this was what Jedi missions were like, he was going to really _enjoy_ being a Jedi.

"Of course, Masters." Obi-Wan bowed again. "Which world shall we be heading to?"

Master Windu answered, "Bandomeer."

Anakin had been in the middle of a nice image of himself squishing a random Hutt when a spike of _something_ went through him so fast, he almost lost the perfect posture he was trying to hold on to. That feeling certainly hadn't been his. Anakin risked a glance at his master. But Obi-Wan was the perfectly calm Jedi, completely at peace with everything as he reached up and stroked his beard.

"Of course, Masters," he said again. "Having been there before, I believe I'll have great insight into this mission."

_Wizard_, Anakin thought. His master had been there before. He couldn't _wait_ to ask for the details. Did Obi-Wan put the Hutts in their place last time or was it some other sort of adventure?

Along the bond, Obi-Wan gave an almost rueful smile. _You've watched me prep for missions before, my young Padawan. Ready to do it _for_ me this time?_

Anakin had no problem sending back his eagerness. He may not be as adept with the bond as his master was, but since he'd made that realization about exactly what Obi-Wan was to him, he'd been finding it easier and easier to use it. He was hardly any good yet, but he was noticing his own progress and Anakin just _knew_ that one day, he and his master would have the strongest bond that any Jedi had ever had before.

They were dismissed and Anakin stayed the proper distance behind his master and kept calm around him until they reached the lift. Then, his giddiness bubbled over and he was laughing in excitement. _Finally_! A mission! No more facing off with Ferus Olin in debate in class for at least a few weeks! Stars, no more _classes_ for a few weeks! He'd have to catch up, granted, but he wouldn't be under the strict and suspicious noses of his teachers! Reprieve! Anakin was just oh-so happy!

"Pada-"

Anakin turned to his master with a broad, bright grin. "You do the research, Master. I'll book us passage, set up our supplies, contact my teachers and do all the small stuff. If I can't get a transport for today, we can go over the details of the mission tonight before we got to sleep. I want to know _everything_."

Obi-Wan gave a small quiet chuckle and reached out to ruffle his hair. "My eager, young Padawan, patience. Book our passage for tomorrow regardless. I need to look up a few things in the archives. It has been over a decade since I've been to Bandomeer and I need to research what might have changed in that time."

"Of course, Master!" Anakin agreed, all excitement and enthusiasm. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Thank you, no." The doors opened and they stepped out. "You've put a lot on yourself to get done today, Anakin. You'd best get going. I'll meet you in the dining hall for dinner and then we can start going over the details."

Anakin nodded. "You sure you want food from there? I could slip out to Dex's, no problem and at least get a pastry or something to celebrate our first mission together."

Obi-Wan was looking away, lost in thought about something. "Together... yes." He blinked and looked at Anakin. His master gave a large grin and winked. "We will get our meal at the dining hall, I won't have time to cook tonight, but if you happen to arrive with something sweet for desert, I would not be adverse to it."

Anakin _wanted_ to shout out a great cry of "Yes!" at the top of his lungs, but since they were in the halls and other Jedi were mingling about, he didn't dare. But he _did_ give his own massive smile and gave Obi-Wan a brief hug before running off to start on the long list of things he knew he needed to get done.

* * *

It was several hours later, after turning in the last of the work that he'd already finished to his teachers, that Anakin took a small moment for a break. He'd been running around nonstop in his excitement, booking passage, getting any supplies they might need (and making _sure_ he had a well stocked medkit... especially after the _last_ mission Obi-Wan had come home from...), and of course, checking in with his teachers, getting the work he'd be missing out on, turning in the work he wouldn't be able to, the list went on and on.

Not that Anakin was annoyed by this. Oh, after several missions he'd probably be bored doing all of this kind of preparation, but for now, he did it because he _could_ and because he was _going_. That was enough to make him very happy.

A quick glance out the tall windows showed that the sun was starting to set, so Anakin got moving again. He had _just_ enough time to go down to Dex's Diner for the perfect pastry for desert (a favorite that both Obi-Wan and himself agreed on...) to cap off this absolutely wonderful day.

"Hmmm, young Skywalker. In such a rush today, are you?"

Anakin skidded to a halt, embarrassed to have been caught... not quite running, but certainly not maintaining the dignified pace of a Jedi. "M-Master Yoda," he quickly bowed in greeting.

The tiny, old Jedi Master was in his hoverchair, smiling gently. "Eager, you are, for this mission, hmmm?"

"Ah, um," Anakin's nerves seemed to completely overtake his previous joy. What to say, what to say... But Obi-Wan's voice, what was becoming the embodiment of his conscious, told him to answer honestly. "Yes, Master Yoda," he bowed again, hoping that he wasn't displeasing the old master with his inability to control his emotions.

Yoda gave a light-hearted chuckle. "Yes, eager you are. Very eager; like all young Padawan's on their first mission. No different, are you, hmmm?"

Anakin's nerves lessened, grateful that others were just as excited for their first missions as he was. They all probably just hid it better than him.

Yoda locked his eyes with Anakin's and Anakin suddenly felt the weight of the stare, much like when Obi-Wan was about to impart a piece of wisdom.

"An important lesson for you, on this mission there is."

Anakin only nodded.

"Look outside yourself, you must. Need you, your master will."

Anakin blinked. What did _that_ mean? Was his master going to get into trouble? Would he be hurt or something? (_Star's End_, no!) _What did that mean_?

But Yoda seemed unaware of his conflict, and offered a takeout bag. "Meaning to get this, you were?" he said with a smile.

Anakin took the bag, already smelling the delicious pastry that he'd been planning to get, but that was secondary to the worry he was feeling over Obi-Wan.

"Thank you, Master Yoda," he mumbled, blindly turning and heading back to his quarters.

Behind him, Yoda smiled gently.

* * *

Just shy of his thirteenth birthday, Anakin realized that he had only seen a smattering of planets. Tatooine had been a yellow and brown ball, no color or life to define it. When the boy had watched it shrink away before entering hyperspace, the only thing that made his throat tighten in mourning of leaving the planet was the knowledge that his mother was still there, and it was the only thing on that rock that mattered. Coruscant was a lot of colors, mostly silver and reflective because of the buildings, with dots of yellow and gold that were lights. Naboo, when he'd gone to save Padme's planet, was the prettiest so far: blue and green with ever-changing patterns of white. Three planets was pretty pitiful, Anakin had decided, and such thoughts always made him more antsy for a mission, something to make him explore and discover - the Temple had fast been running out of mysteries.

So when he and Obi-Wan exited hyperspace he'd rushed to the view-port of their cabin to see what Bandomeer looked like. He was disappointed to see that it was mostly grey, with five patches of green scattered throughout the boring shades. He thought worlds would be prettier, like Naboo. Was it the only jewel in the galaxy? It undoubtedly was, if only because Padme was from it.

"Amazing," Obi-Wan murmured, looking out view-port with his Padawan. "They've made so much progress in fifteen years..."

Anakin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The Agri-Corps," Obi-Wan supplied, leaning back in his seat. "Those green territories you see are Enrichment Zones. The planet has undergone so much strip-mining that the natural environment had all but died out. The local government, to try and restore it, contacted the Agricultural Corps. When I was there the Enrichment Zones had only been around for a few years and each one encompassed at most a few acres. To see that they've grown so much is astounding." The Jedi smiled slightly, his eyes looking at a memory. "I wonder how RonTha is doing. He loved talking about plants: seed growth and shaft width and sun-to-water ratios, germination cycles - oh, the germination cycles! - and ozone affects on the plants."

Anakin yawned. "Sounds boring," he commented.

"It wasn't, actually," Obi-Wan corrected lightly, a small smile on his face. "But unfortunately, RonTha had a way of making everything sound boring."

The Padawan shrugged, not particularly caring. "So what did you and Master Qui-Gon do down there?"

He was looking out the viewport, so he didn't see his master's face tighten slightly before answering. "A corporation called Offworld Mining was... causing trouble."

Anakin heard the pause and turned around, curious. Obi-Wan's face was completely closed off, however. The Padawan blinked and leaned forward. "So, did you beat up Hutts or something?"

Obi-Wan responded with a faint smile. "Or something," he said simply. "Master Qui-Gon handled most of the intrigue."

That... didn't make sense somehow, but not in a way that Anakin could put his finger on. He asked, "If he was handling all the intrigue, then what were you doing? I thought Padawans followed their Masters everywhere?"

If it was possible, Obi-Wan's face became even more closed off. "We had... separate assignments."

Anakin cocked his head to the side, and was about to press the matter, when an announcement came over the speakers: "We are now breaching the stratosphere; because of possible turbulence please buckle up. We are now breaching the stratosphere; because of possible turbulence please buckle up."

"Come, Padawan," Obi-Wan said, reaching up for the safety strap. "Buckle up. Our minds shouldn't be on the past but the present. Let us focus on the task at hand."

* * *

Anakin looked around in confused awe as he and Obi-Wan were led down the corridors of the Governor's Palace in a city called Bandor. Their guide was chattering on and on about something, but Anakin wasn't listening. This "Palace" felt oddly... humble. It had been built on a modest scale that attempted to be grand. Hallways were wide, but not overpowering, décor was pleasant, but not intimidating. In a way, the humble nature reminded Anakin of the Temple. He'd always thought that palaces were supposed to be elegant and grand, like Padme's. Even back on Tatooine, where a Hutt controlled any palace of any kind, had vast rooms and expensive artifacts.

"I see this Palace seems to have gotten some money since last I was here," Obi-Wan commented, reaching out and brushing a hand against a massive drapery. "I'd imagine the ionite has helped with that?"

"Oh yes!" their guide tittered. "Between the profits from the ionite and the azurite, and that the Enrichment Zones are providing a good source of food so that we don't have to import it from off-planet have given us the finances to really get things done!"

Obi-Wan gave a smile and Anakin thought he felt something briefly along the bond. But when he stopped to look, there was nothing there. The guide turned as they reached a set of doors and held out his hands, palms down in the Meerian departure. Obi-Wan and Anakin mimicked it and turned.

Obi-Wan glanced down at him. "Anakin. I know you seek adventure. When adventure happens, it will happen. But this is your first mission. For now, observe. Tonight I'd like to discuss what you've seen and your thoughts on the subject."

Anakin gave a small scowl. "Meaning nothing exciting's going to happen."

"On the contrary," his master replied cheerfully. "I happen to find your thoughts and impressions of things _very_ exciting."

He couldn't help the bubble of happiness that rose within him. He took a deep breath and reached for the Jedi calm he'd held when they'd been assigned this mission. He wondered how long he'd be able to hold onto it and if he'd lose it before the end of their meeting with the Governor.

"Very good, my Padawan. Let's go."

They entered the room that, like the rest of the Palace, was modest yet pretty. To Anakin's surprise, there were cushions on the floor and with a small gesture from his master he took a seat next to him, across from the small Meerian who greeted them with her palms facing up.

Anakin jerked when the seats rose, bringing everyone to eye level. He liked the idea of always being on an even setting with everyone. But he didn't worry about that too much anymore. He no longer reached his master's waist, but was up near Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Greetings, Jedi. I am SonTag, Governor of Bandomeer."

"Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker," Obi-Wan replied, placing a hand on Anakin's shoulder and squeezing it.

SonTag blinked, her brow furrowing briefly, before she smiled and set about business. "I would have liked to wait for the leader of the Home Planet Interests, but she seems to be running late. Shall we begin?"

"Of course."

Anakin set about holding his focus. He _knew_ this was probably going to be very boring, but his master wanted his opinions, so he had better pay attention.

... Plus, Anakin couldn't forget Master Yoda's words. That Obi-Wan would need him.

"As you no doubt know, the Home Planet Interests runs all the mining on the land half of Bandomeer," SonTag explained. "The Hutts left behind after Offworld abandoned our planet have maintained control of the deep sea mines. The Hutts, over the years, have built ports along the coast, understandable since they need to export what they dig up. But the Hutts are getting greedy-"

_What a surprise..._

"-and want to claim a mine on the coast." SonTag frowned. "That goes against all agreements we've made in the past decade. And now there have been incidents of theft. Mining equipment, supplies are disappearing from coastal warehouses." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I suspect the Hutts, but have no proof. They claim we're doing it to frame them."

Obi-Wan gave a slight grin. "I am familiar with the tactic."

SonTag nodded. "It is why we called for a Jedi. We need a neutral party."

The door burst open and a dark-haired woman with grey at the temples came in. "Sorry I'm late!" she exclaimed.

"Ah," SonTag greeted, palms up. "Clat'Ha. Glad you could make it."

"Sorry Son," the new woman greeted. "Always some last minute thing," she grumbled, taking a seat on a cushion. It rose so that she was at eye level with everyone. "Hello," she dipped her head and held her hands out, palms up. "I am Clat'Ha and I am in charge of Home Planet Interests."

"Both the native Meerians and the Arconans, if I'm correct?" Obi-Wan stated with a knowing grin.

"Yes," Clat'Ha nodded. She looked at his master. "We asked for Master Qui-Gon Jinn, did we not? He has the most knowledge as he helped take care of the Hutts and Offworld before."

That statement struck Anakin as very, very odd. Didn't they remember his master at all? Obi-Wan had come here before with Master Qui-Gon. Surely they would remember both master _and_ Padawan? But Obi-Wan had said they were on different assignments.

... Just what did that mean?

"Ah," Obi-Wan sighed. Quietly, he said, "It seems you have not heard. Master Jinn joined the Force almost four years ago."

Anakin looked down briefly.

"I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi," his master introduced again, "and this is my Padaw-"

"Kenobi?" Clat'Ha interrupted. "Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Yes, and this is my Pad-"

Clat'Ha jumped of her seat, came over, and gave Anakin's master a fierce hug. "You knew Master Jinn personally. You helped him; you helped us on the transport here. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Aaah, thank you," Obi-Wan muttered gently, looking terribly awkward. Anakin smirked at that. Obi-Wan knew that hugs could save the world, but he wasn't yet comfortable with them in public yet, let alone from someone other than Anakin.

"Of course!" SonTag exclaimed. "You were the child that got kidnapped and dropped off as a slave at one of the deep sea mines. Master Jinn rescued you! _That's_ why your name was familiar."

Anakin blinked, looking to Obi-Wan. _Master? What _happened_ when you were here last time?_ Because Anakin didn't think a Jedi would _ever_ know what it was like to be a slave. Questions were lining up one after another in Anakin's head, all demanding to be answered right away, but he'd promised that he'd discuss things with his master that evening. With no other options, Anakin bit his cheek to keep his mouth shut.

_Master? I'd like to know-_

_ Not now, please. Tonight._

_ I'm holding you to that, Master._

There was a weak grin over the bond. _I'd be surprised if you didn't_.

"Back to the question at hand?"

Clat'Ha finally released him from her hug. "Yes. Those slugs." She returned to her seat, her green eyes flashing something. "It's just like when we were coming here." She stared at Obi-Wan, pausing. "I'm sorry, Master Jedi, I keep thinking of that scrawny, gangly kid when we were coming to Bandomeer. You turned out well."

Anakin couldn't hold back a laugh.

Obi-Wan gave a small huff. "I _was_ in a growth spurt at the time," he defended himself. "Now, about the Hutts?"

"Yes," SonTag replied. "Issulla runs the Hutt mining operations. She was the one who negotiated the initial divide that we currently have. For almost a decade, she has shown no sign of wanting to change the profitable set up we have."

"Still a Hutt," Clat'Ha grumbled. "Got worse when Grondo showed up. Now _he's_ complete slime, through and through."

Obi-Wan gave a small grin. "Worse than Jemba and Grelb?"

"Much."

"I doubt they're worse than Jabba," Anakin muttered.

Obi-Wan stole a glance at him, and Anakin dropped his head in apology.

The meeting continued from there, theorizing, planning and sharing information with Obi-Wan and Anakin both. Grondo seemed to be the most likely source of the trouble, since Issulla had stuck to the agreement for so long, but Clat'Ha distrusted Hutts on principal. Anakin agreed with this sentiment wholeheartedly. Obi-Wan and Anakin would go visit the Hutts the following day to get their side of the story and then start investigating the sites of the thefts.

"Obi-Wan?" Clat'Ha asked at the end of the meeting. "You've got an old friend in the Enrichment Zone's who'd love to see you."

His master gave another small smile. (Seriously. Why were all of his master's smiles small today?) "After lunch. Which Enrichment Zone?"

"I'll take you there myself."

Anakin wondered what friend his master was going to see.

**

* * *

Author's Note**: Originally, this mission to Bandomeer was supposed to be one drabble. Thirty pages later and a lot still to go, we thought it needed to be broken up. We're not that happy with the title for this drabble and trying to find good area to break off as a drabble proved difficult. Most of this is set up for later in the Bandomeer mission and the "mystery" of Obi-Wan's "first" mission with Qui-Gon. Note that Obi-Wan hasn't been keeping that mission a secret from Anakin. More along the lines of it brings up some painful memories and Anakin respects the privacy of that. (Palpatine's influence, that every being has secrets that they don't want to share...) Also note that Anakin _knows_ he'll have the strongest bond with Obi-Wan that the Jedi Order has ever seen. Much like he _knows_ he'll marry Padme one day. ^_^ Foreshadowing much?

Next week (yes we're going weekly now): Obi-Wan meets an old friend and Anakin asks a lot of questions about Obi-Wan's first time on Bandomeer.


	12. Where Friends Reminisce

**Where Friends Reminisce**

The transport sailed over the barren terrain from the city of Bandor with adequate speed. Anakin watched the scenery fly by at different speeds dependent on how far away from the transport it was, but it all looked the same: boring dull grey and brown hills, old excavations sites, smoke stacks from ones still being worked on, and the occasional hint of the massive machinery that was used to mine the planet. There didn't seem to be anything particularly interesting, and so the Padawan pulled away from it and instead looked to his master.

Obi-Wan's face was far away, not looking at anything. Frowning, Anakin poked along the bond and found it strangely empty as well. He poked harder.

His master blinked and looked at him. "Was that really necessary?" he asked in a trite tone.

"Yes," Anakin defended hotly, "You certainly didn't do anything when I tried to be subtle."

"Or perhaps I was deliberately ignoring you to teach you patience," Obi-Wan countered before crossing his arms. "You still have much to learn."

"Yeah, yeah," Anakin waved off, having heard this too often to take it seriously. "Good thing you're here to teach me."

That seemed to set his master off again, his face far away. "Yes..." he responded softly, and Anakin was about ready to burst. Tonight couldn't come soon enough, he decided, and now was a perfectly good time to get his answers.

"What is _with_ you?" he demanded, settling on starting with the obvious.

Obi-Wan, of course, seemed completely confused. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"What's with you?" Anakin repeated. "That government lady didn't know you except as someone who was kidnapped and turned into a _slave_," the word sounded like a curse in his mouth, "And that business lady-"

A hand rose to forestall further comment. "Patience, Padawan. How many times do I have to say it? You'll get your answers tonight, assuming my friend in the Enrichment Zone doesn't give you some shade of enlightenment."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Anakin demanded.

Obi-Wan blatantly ignored him.

An hour later they reached a gate of some kind, and after speaking the Meerian at the gate they passed through. Beyond the gate looked infinitely prettier than before it; there were dozens of shades of green and spotted colors of fruits and flowers. Orchards were in crisp, neat little rows, and the landscape was spotted with dozens of buildings that his master identified as greenhouses. Some plants were in pots, water from some kind of irrigation system sprinkled out occasionally, and workers were scattered throughout the fields. Some were Acronan, some were Meerian, and some were human. Anakin thought it reminded him a little of Naboo.

Clat'Ha, who had been driving the transport, turned her head slightly to say, "We're almost there!" over the roar of the wind as it whipped by them.

The transport slowed and the woman put it in the appropriate gear before breaking and finally idling the engine. The three hopped out of the small speeder and Anakin watched as his master take in a deep breath, the feeling of _nostalgia!_ flittering through the bond briefly. Anakin looked at his master in askance, his face slightly petulant, but Obi-Wan seemed to take pity on him and answered his silent question.

"Olfactory senses have a direct connection to the memory center of the brain," he said calmly, another small smile on his face. "Breathing in the scent of all these trees and I suddenly remembered when I first came here; all the feelings and sensations and sounds combined."

Anakin frowned. Deeply. Obi-Wan nodded in acknowledgement but walked right past him, following Clat'Ha down a winding dirt path and once again blatantly ignoring his Padawan. The nerve! How was he supposed to get any answers, or learn anything, or even help his master if the man kept ignoring him like this?

He trailed after the two adults, composure having long been forgotten; he stomped his feet and didn't even try to school his expression. Let Obi-Wan suffer the embarrassment of having a disobedient Padawan, it would make him look bad, Anakin decided.

"It will also make _you_ 'look bad,'" Obi-Wan admonished, having picked up on his feelings. "Do you really wish to do that level of damage to yourself?"

... Curse Obi-Wan!

The trio entered what was clearly an administration building, traversing narrow halls before entering some kind of office filled with filing cabinets and a small desk that housed an Acronan. Clat'Ha smiled broadly, her green eyes flashing, and said simply, "I'll leave you alone," before turning around and crisply walking back out. Anakin's gaze trailed after her briefly before snapping back to his master and the Acronan. The two were staring at each other.

Finally, "Obi-Wan Kenobi!"

"Si Treemba!"

The two clasped hand fiercely. "Look at you!" Obi-Wan said, "Field head of an Enrichment Zone!"

"Look at _you_!" Si Treemba replied, "A Jedi at last! We hope this means Master Jin finally accepted you as a Padawan!"

... _What_?

The two seemed completely oblivious to the shocked Padawan, Si Treemba pulling up chairs for his two guests while he quickly sat back at his own, his green eyes alight in delight. Obi-Wan's face, too, was bright. "He did," the Jedi replied, "It was right after we dismantled the bomb." ... _What?_ "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to tell you, after the matter was settled Master Qui-Gon was assigned almost immediately another mission, and there just wasn't time to tell you what had happened."

"So we were right, that hidden storehouse...?"

"...Was part of the plot, yes."

"We were so worried when you disappeared, and then to hear you were in the mines with the bomb..."

"It all worked out," Obi-Wan said genially. "Tell me, what has been happening here? The Enrichment Zone has certainly been successful."

"Yes, we have been working very hard," the Acronan replied. "Some of the scientists and geneticists managed to take one of the native plants and increase it's ammonia content. We have been planting it in caves and empty mines, and they thrive! We are now beginning to introduce dactyl to the environments, and we are confident that we will soon have enough to feed us."

"That is wonderful news!" Obi-Wan said lightly. "We certainly wouldn't want the Hutts holding it hostage and demanding you work for them or die."

"Yes, we remember. We also remember your courage at that time."

Obi-Wan waved it off. "Whatever courage you think I showed pales in comparison to you. You were dying, Si Treemba, and yet you still managed to wait for Master Qui-Gon."

"We think you are humble," the Acronan replied, leaning back in his chair. "But that is traditional for a Jedi."

For the next _two hours_ Obi-Wan and the grey scaled Si Treemba caught up, talking about the Enrichment Zones and what had progressed and what they were still working on; what the Agri-Corps had been assigned and how they were doing, what the other Acronan were doing and what they thought of the shockingly independent Si Treemba, blah, blah, blah. Anakin dutifully paid attention, but found nothing of merit in the random observations and comments. He tried to see if he could wheedle out any other pieces of information for the half-baked picture he had been forming all day. Over the course of the day, the Padawan had learned that during his master's time here, he'd been kidnapped for slavery on the great sea but also spent time in Enrichment Zones - apparently investigating hidden storehouses and _dismantling bombs_. Yet it was _Qui-Gon_ that all the administration and bosses seemed to know.

It made no sense!

At the two-hour mark Clat'Ha returned from wherever she had disappeared to and picked them up. Obi-Wan said his goodbyes, Anakin doing the same quietly. Internally he was seething in confusion and struggling to understand a puzzle he didn't have all the pieces to. Yoda's oblique comment about his master needing him was also pressing on the Padawan's mind. He felt pulled in many directions and didn't know what to do.

The ride back was silent, and once Clat'Ha dropped them off at the hotel. The luggage, sparse though it was, had been delivered to their room and they were unpacked in very little time.

"It always seems to take longer to pack than unpack," Anakin observed.

"Yes, well, wait until we pack when we leave," Obi-Wan observed, a wry smile on his face. "Unfamiliar rooms make for unfamiliar routines make for an interesting adventure in finding everything you brought with you."

Dinner was delivered to their room, compliments of the Agri-Corps, the Meerian had said, and Anakin's mouth watered at just with the _smell_ of the foodstuffs. Any thoughts were quickly put on hold as he savored every bite - and went through the meal as quickly as possible at the same time. Yum!

Afterward, he leaned back and crossed his legs onto the chair, feeling satisfied even through his earlier irritation. Obi-Wan, too, seemed more relaxed; at least he was leaning back in his chair and fingering his beard without looking like he was six light years away. "All right, Padawan," he said, "I know you have questions, but the present must come first: what opinions do you have of the current situation here?"

Anakin frowned in thought, but ultimately gave his gut-response. "I think the Hutts are Bantha poodoo and are trying to encroach on the territory. Most likely the new guy Grondo is the spearhead, but I'll lay credits on the fact that he's using a plan that Issulla's set up. They're obviously behind the thefts, I'd gather as nothing more than 'cheap purchases' so they don't have to pay."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, his face deep in thought. "Then tell me, Padawan, why did the thefts only start recently?"

Anakin blinked. "Does it matter?"

"Yes," his master replied. "I find it very interesting that they started shortly after the new Hutt, Grondo, arrived. I also find it interesting that Issulla has held to the agreements so steadfastly until recently. I sense deeper layers here that we are not yet aware of." He looked up. "What do you think of the fact that they have made no moves whatsoever on the Enrichment Zones?"

Anakin blinked again. "One has nothing to do with the other." Right?

"Possibly, but if they were truly looking to incur a hostile takeover, surely that would include treachery in the Enrichment Zones; they offer a great opportunity to hide things because of their vast size, as well as the lucrative idea of holding the planet's primary food supply hostage - a tactic I've seen before."

He eyed his master shrewdly. "Like with whatever happened with Si Treemba?" he asked slowly.

"Ah," Obi-Wan said, "I suppose you won't stop until we deal with this, first."

Anakin grinned. "You know me master."

* * *

"Oh, yes," Obi-Wan replied, "I certainly do." He paused, taking a breath and rubbing his chin. It wasn't a _bad_ memory, his time on Bandomeer, but many of the emotions attached to it he had thought were buried, only to have resurfaced with the death of his master. He put much of it to bed again, or so he'd thought, but coming back here brought back all the feelings, all the doubts, the heartbreak and pain, the constant rejections from his then-not-master. It... wasn't something he expected; and trying to _explain_ it all to his Padawan... dear Force how was he going to do it?

Start at the beginning, of course. He took a breath again.

"To start," he said, "Master Qui-Gon and I were not yet Master and Padawan. In point of fact, I had been sent to Bandomeer to join the Agri-Corps."

He watched his own Padawan's face. Anakin didn't pick up the meaning immediately, working his thoughts between the words, and then his face slacked in shock as realization dawned on him. "You mean nobody _picked_ you?" he demanded, outraged at the thought. "_Why?_"

Ah, youth. Obi-Wan found himself smiling at Anakin's utter belief in his master. "I happen to know that Master Yoda was sad to see me go, and later Master Qui-Gon said my joining the Agri-Corps was a waste of potential."

"Then _why_?" Anakin demanded again.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I was missing something at the time. I was young, embarrassingly naïve, impulsive, and unable to fully handle anger whenever I felt it."

"... _You_ get angry?"

Obi-Wan allowed himself to make a face. "I _am_ human Anakin. 'We are not saints, but seekers.' I know you've heard the idiom. Besides, doesn't it sound just a little familiar?" He gave his charge a long, meaningful look.

Anakin flushed and dutifully held his tongue.

"When I was your age I was filled with just as many turbulent emotions as you are now; and that was why no master would take me." He still remembered the frustration, the sting of rejection after rejection, the desperation as his thirteenth birthday inched closer and closer. "That was why I was sent to Bandomeer. As it turned out, Master Qui-Gon was also heading there, on assignment. I asked over and over, begged really, for him to take me as a Padawan, and he rebuffed my every attempt. I met Si Treemba on that transport. I don't mind telling you it was an adventure just _getting_ to Bandomeer; the transport was attacked by pirates, and while Master Qui-Gon fended them off and I tried to land the ship, the Hutts onboard took the opportunity to steal the Acronan supply of dactyl, a crystal they need to survive."

"Typical Hutts, always underhanded," Anakin muttered, but said little else. Was the story really that interesting?

"The Acronans very nearly gave up their freedom for the chance to live. By some miracle I convinced them to wait, and - at the last possible moment, just like my Master - Qui-Gon was able to find and return the mineral." Obi-Wan paused, his memories briefly overtaking his eyes. "Si Treemba really was brave; they all were. Some of them were very close to death before Master Qui-Gon arrived..." He shook it off. "After that, I went to the Enrichment Zones and my master tried to settle the intrigue."

"Is this the part where you get to the bomb and the slavery?"

Obi-Wan wondered if _he_ was ever like this as a child. ... Yes, probably. He sighed and continued. "I can't tell you much of what happened in Bandor, Master Qui-Gon never spoke much of it. The whole ordeal hurt him, I think. Regardless, after a few weeks in the Zone, Si Treemba and I came across a hidden storehouse that had Offworld supplies there. I informed Master Qui-Gon and, in a fit of sheer foolishness, decided to stake out the place in case anything happened. Without backup, telling Qui-Gon, or thinking about the dangers that might follow. The result of course was that I was captured and shipped off to the offshore mines of the Great Sea. All the workers were forced to wear collar bombs that would detonate if it went outside a predetermined distance. Master Qui-Gon rescued me, thank the Force, and managed to deactivate the collar."

Obi-Wan paused, thinking about what happened next, and the pain it caused his master. He wasn't sure if he wanted to pass this on to Anakin, surely it was all detailed in the Archives; the boy could look it up whenever he wanted. He shook his head, deciding against the thought. That would be running away.

"The person who orchestrated the entire affair was a man named Xanatos, a former Padawan who left the Order. And Fell."

"Whoa..."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. "He was Master Qui-Gon's apprentice."

"_What?_" Anakin openly gaped in disbelief, unable to picture anyone who had ever known the tall Jedi to have the audacity to fall. Obi-Wan decided it was good that his Padawan was hearing this; he needed to, at least in part, understand that even the Jedi world was not a perfectly structured environment. "How? Why? _What?_"

Obi-Wan held up a hand to forestall more questions. One thing at a time. "It... It happens," he said slowly; and all too suddenly he pictured his passionate Anakin, so full of emotion and so quick to let them take over, doing just as Xanatos had: claiming that Obi-Wan showed no emotion, no praise, and left the Order in spite, turning to the Dark Side. It chilled him right down his spine, and it was everything Obi-Wan could do to not react to the thought, to push it aside and focus on the here and now. Qui-Gon hadn't failed _him_, and he would die before he failed his own Padawan. He wouldn't fail with Anakin. He _wouldn't_.

"After my rescue we returned to Bandor and confronted him. It was a fierce battle, but ultimately Xanatos had different plans. He broke off the engagement and locked us in a shaft of the mines with an ion bomb - one of many that were scattered throughout the planet." Obi-Wan remembered his impulsive, irrational, utterly _foolish_ decision to press himself against the lock and detonate his collar to give Qui-Gon time to escape. Blessed _Force_, what had he been thinking? "We were, ultimately, able to dismantle the bomb and rout out Xanatos' conspirators. It was during that that Master Qui-Gon saw something in me, and decided to take me on as his apprentice."

There were questions after that, of course; Anakin was nothing if not inquisitive. After years of teaching Anakin how to learn, the boy brought his prowess to full force as he subjected Obi-Wan to a long litany of questions, wanting to know details, feelings, perspectives, wanting to dissect every aspect of that fateful mission that had brought Obi-Wan the father he'd loved more than anything. Even Obi-Wan's gentle attempts to steer the conversation away from the more embarrassing parts of the story - specifically anything that had to do with _him_ - were relentlessly pursued with more vigor than even the parts about Qui-Gon, and an hour later Obi-Wan felt like he had just finished a grueling session with the Council. A feeling he knew all too well.

Suffice to say, any discussion on current events were suspended until that morning. Obi-Wan secretly took delight in getting his Padawan up extra early to "make up for lost time."

* * *

Anakin more than grumbled that his master was so cruel waking him up so early, but in a tiny corner of his head he didn't often acknowledge knew that it was mostly his own fault. But Anakin hadn't gotten much sleep that night, his mind swirling with all the revelations of Obi-Wan's difficulty in merely _becoming_ a Padawan, that his master had been a _slave_ (no matter how briefly), that Qui-Gon (_Qui-Gon_!) had been a stubborn jerk, Xanatos, Qui-Gon's fallen apprentice, there was just so much information to parse!

Thoughts were still firing back and forth at light speed through his brain and more and more questions seemed to be generated as he thought about everything. He had tried to ask them that morning, but Obi-Wan had that look in his eye. To his disappointment, Anakin just _knew_ he wouldn't get any answers till that evening. "Focus on the here and now," after all. And the "here" was on a ship and the "now" was on their way to meet Issulla and get her side of the story.

Well, since they would be at sea for easily another hour before they arrived, Anakin decided to think about everything he had learned. He just wasn't sure where to start.

He had no _idea_ that his master had ever been a slave. Frankly, he didn't think _any_ Jedi would have to suffer under the indignation of being _property_. Jedi were _strong_ and noble and while they denied pride and were humble, they had enough pride in themselves to maintain dignity and to _not_ be someone's slave. Maybe that was why Obi-Wan understood Anakin so well. He understood what slavery meant. But that didn't quite feel right since Obi-Wan had been a slave for only a few days. Anakin had met people who were new to slavery. The reality of their situation never hit them until a few months later when they realized they were trapped. Obi-Wan hadn't been a slave that long. But it was still more experience than Anakin thought any other Jedi had.

Anakin didn't like that Obi-Wan was a slave. Slavery wasn't something he'd wish on _anyone_. Looking at his master, trying to picture the strong, gentle, generous Obi-Wan with a chip in his body or a collar was just _wrong_. The same way his mother's current slavery was _wrong_. Obi-Wan was his family, and despite how brief it was, Anakin was _angry_ that someone had taken away Obi-Wan's basic right of freedom. Obi-Wan didn't deserve that any more than his mother did or he, himself, had.

But knowing that Obi-Wan, no matter how brief the tenure had been, understood a little of what it meant for Anakin to have been a slave, made him feel better. Which made Anakin feel worse, because he _shouldn't_ be happy that Obi-Wan had suffered through that. The knowledge that there was someone in the Jedi Order that Anakin could relate to with that part of his life was just so comforting. Yet Anakin was trying to be a Jedi. And Jedi didn't take pleasure in other people's suffering.

It was such a confusing mess of emotions.

So Anakin did what he always did when he was faced with something that brought out conflicting emotions. He ignored it and thought of something else.

Anakin still felt a fair bit of shock about the fact that no one had wanted his master. Not even Qui-Gon. Did they not _see_ back then what Obi-Wan was? The perfect Jedi? Oh, Anakin knew that Obi-Wan was the perfect Jedi that he was because of a lot of training and diligent work. It was doubtful that Obi-Wan was always like this, but Anakin just couldn't picture Obi-Wan as anything other than an exemplary Jedi. How could anyone _not_ want Obi-Wan? Even Ferus Olin was jealous that Anakin had gotten such an awesome master.

And Master Qui-Gon! Anakin still held the deceased master in high regard and very much as a father figure in his life. But his childish hero-worship was being torn down as he started to get a more accurate image of the man he'd barely known. He'd known that Qui-Gon had a Padawan who had betrayed him, and that was why he'd denied simple hugs to Obi-Wan. But Anakin hadn't realized that that fallen apprentice had sought revenge so viciously as to almost blow up an entire planet. Anakin had heard the name Xanatos before. Obi-Wan's stories of some of his missions would sometimes hold the name as an adversary and Anakin was _certain_ it was the same man. Qui-Gon was the one who had taught Ob-Wan to "focus on the here and now". But the man didn't follow his own advice! If he had, clearly he would have seen that Obi-Wan was worth training!

There were things that Anakin would be angry at Qui-Gon about. Not freeing his mother. Dying. But those were fleeting moments because Qui-Gon had _freed_ him and Anakin would forever look at him in a good light because of that. Anakin understood that Qui-Gon had been a good master to Obi-Wan, one need only look at Obi-Wan's year of mourning to see that he had done such a good job of being a father. But Anakin didn't know if he could ever quite forgive Qui-Gon for the continuous ripping away of Obi-Wan's dreams on the way to Bandomeer. Really, Qui-Gon acted like a total jerk! Obi-Wan had done so much to help resolve things on Bandomeer, and no one remembered or recognized it. They only remembered Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan wasn't someone to just gloss over! His deeds needed to be known!

It was a resolution. When Anakin got back to the Temple, he didn't _care_ how far behind he'd get in his work, he was going to the Archives and looking up _every_ _single_ mission that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon went on. While Obi-Wan was forthcoming in many stories of their adventures, there were clearly some missions that he hadn't talked about and Anakin was _going_ to learn about them. Then he was _going_ to ask his master questions. Because if Qui-Gon could sometimes be a jerk, then there were a backlog of hugs that his master needed. And his master needed to be acknowledged for all the good work he'd done.

**

* * *

Author's Note**: Awww, Ani's really cute sometimes, isn't he? Again, because we had to break up the Bandomeer drabble-turned-full-story, we're not happy with the title and were we broke it off. . We didn't mean to put Qui-Gon in a negative light, and Obi-Wan looking back can be objective and say that Qui-Gon had every right to deny taking him as a Padawan. (But then, Obi-Wan never sees just how good he is, so that's to be expected.) Also, Anakin has a very skewed view of things. He never really go to know Qui-Gon and hearing an unflattering story of him from Obi-Wan, whom he holds in very high regard, is shifting things for him. Qui-Gon is a god no more, but a fallible, imperfect human being. That's a bit rough for anyone to take after building them up for so long. In any event, now that the "mystery" of the first "mission" is taken care of, now WE can focus on the here and now of this mission.

Next week: Obi-Wan and Anakin visit the Hutts. Do things go perfectly? No, of course not.


	13. Where Intrigue is Unveiled

**Where Intrigue is Unveiled**

Obi-Wan put a hand on his Padawan's shoulder before they disembarked. Anakin looked up, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Anakin," he said quietly. "You are biased against the Hutts with good reason. I don't particularly care for them either. But you must put that aside and listen openly. We have things to learn here, and we won't learn them if we shut our eyes and plug our ears simply because we are speaking with a creature we don't like."

Anakin scowled, but nodded.

"Now," Obi-Wan continued, "if you happen to discover something while exploring the facility, well I have an inquisitive Padawan who likes to look around."

At this, Anakin's scowl disappeared behind a large grin.

"Just make sure to _contact_ me before you try and do anything. We _don't_ want the Hutts to suddenly decide that we'd be better off working in the mines."

Anakin continued to smile brightly. "Of course, Master."

Obi-Wan nodded, squeezing Anakin's shoulder again. He'd wanted Anakin to simply observe how a Jedi does a negotiation, but given his Padawan's active nature, Anakin exploring was probably a better choice. At least he'd _know_ that his Padawan was out and wandering around, and with permission, as opposed to the frequent times when he'd return to their apartment at the Temple to realize he'd snuck out again. Now if Anakin found something, Obi-Wan _hoped_ he'd do the sensible thing and contact him. But this was Anakin. Obi-Wan let out a brief internal sigh. _We'll see_.

Their guide turned out to be a towering Imbat, who merely snorted upon seeing them and gestured for them to follow.

_Pleasant creature,_ Obi-Wan sent through the bond.

_Gee, you think?_ was Anakin's retort. Obi-Wan was pleased with the progress his Padawan had made at utilizing the bond.

Obi-Wan gave a small chuckle. _Keep an eye on the bond, Padawan. And stay in contact as you explore. I'd like to know what trouble you get into at some point _before_ the last minute._

Anakin gave a small huff. _Who said I was going to _get_ in trouble?_

_Just a feeling_.

His Padawan snorted, but nevertheless started looking around with the appropriate wide-eyed stare and dropped jaw of a youngling who'd never seen such a place before. The Imbat growled at any questions Anakin asked about the mining, and Obi-Wan called Anakin back to his side once as he started down another hallway. No doubt the Hutts were watching and suspicious, but Anakin did an excellent job of presenting himself as a child on some sort of field trip. Obi-Wan sent a pulse of pride and Anakin gave a small grin.

The Imbat took them deeper into the facility where the wind and waves didn't roar quite so loud until they reached a small audience chamber, lavishly decorated. Settled on a dais was a massive Hutt, easily several hundred years old, sipping from a golden goblet. In front of the Hutt was a smaller one, clearly much younger, darker in color with arms crossed. Beside the smaller Hutt was an amethyst protocol droid, no doubt for translating.

A Twi'lek male, bare-chested and in a pair of shorts that barely covered anything bowed and led Obi-Wan and Anakin into the room. He offered the two Jedi drinks, which Anakin politely refused and Obi-Wan took, but did not sip.

"Greetings," Obi-Wan bowed to the large Hutt on the dais. "I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and this is my inquisitive Padawan Anakin Skywalker.

The largest Hutt answered, her voice a light tenor that could be either male or female with the androgynous species, in Huttese.

_Master, I think this will be good practice for you._

Obi-Wan sent a smile. Indeed, he understood Huttese quite well, given his young Padawan and his ability to cuss when angry. But there was no need for the Hutts to know that he understood them. He politely waited for the protocol droid to translate, only without the insults.

"The great and honorable Issulla welcomes you to her humble mining operations and is grateful that you are here to clear up the misunderstandings that have broken out between the great Issulla's operations and the Home Planet."

Obi-Wan smiled and started to speak when Anakin tugged on his sleeve, looking up with curiosity.

"Ah, I beg your pardon, milady," Anakin sent a mental snort, "but this is my Padawan's first mission. He has never seen mining facilities before. Do you have someone available to give him a tour?" And there was no missing Obi-Wan's underlying tone of "Please, let him go explore so we can get to business."

Issulla gave a throaty laugh, turning to the smaller Hutt. "You will take the brat for the tour," she said calmly in Huttese.

"I will not," the darker Hutt, Grondo no doubt, replied. "You're not getting rid of me for this meeting."

"I am still in charge."

"Not for long."

"Watch your tongue before it is cut out."

Grondo just grinned. "I run this operation in all but name. I _will_-"

Issulla cut him off, turning to the protocol droid and growling again in Huttese.

"The honorable Issulla will have the Imbat who brought you here guide your young Padawan around the facility, but warns you that mining is a dangerous profession."

Obi-Wan turned. "Anakin, stay with your guide and don't stray." _And make sure to keep him busy._

"Of course, Master," Anakin bowed with a wide grin. _I'll find the stolen goods, Master, you squish the Hutts._

_ Padawan!_

But the male Twi'lek escorted Anakin to the Imbat who stood outside the door before scurrying back to his mistress's side. His Padawan smiled and waved, before launching into questions about power-consumption and renewable energy with the tall Imbat, who looked down at him dumbly as they proceeded down the hall.

"I thank you, milady."

Issulla started to respond before the smaller Hutt demanded for the protocol droid to introduce him.

"The esteemed Grondo, also welcomes you to the facility. He is the great Issulla's indispensable aide and wise council."

Obi-Wan would have had to be blind to miss that Issulla clearly did _not_ like Grondo and didn't consider him either "indispensable" or "wise".

Interesting.

Issulla started to speak, but Grondo cut her off again. "The esteemed Grondo wishes to know what proof the Home Planet has for the thefts of which, we are accused."

Obi-Wan started to speak, but small Hutt interrupted again.

"And the esteemed Grondo wishes to know what reassurances you can provide that you, as a Human, Jedi or not, will not automatically side with his fellow Humans."

Obi-Wan waited a moment, wishing to know he'd have a chance to speak without interruptions. _This really _does_ bring back memories. Just like the transport to Bandomeer._ "I am merely here to be a neutral party. I have no opinion one way or the other on accusations of theft, until I have investigated it. I am a Jedi, and will not allow any personal feelings cloud my role as mediator and investigator. My only goal is to restore Bandomeer to the peaceful settlement that has existed for over a decade."

Issulla gave a small nod, but Grondo scowled.

The small Hutt growled a long line of insults, and the protocol droid translated, "The esteemed Grondo states that you offer no assurances at all."

Obi-Wan started to speak, but the large Issulla interrupted this time. "Grondo, you idiot. He's _Jedi_. He will keep to his word if you _don't_ provoke him."

The protocol droid said, "The great and honorable Issulla trusts in your assurances as a Jedi and apologizes for Grondo's youthful haste."

Grondo scowled darkly at Issulla.

Obi-Wan merely nodded, observing. The power struggle between the two was indeed informative.

Issulla spoke again. "The honorable Issulla also wishes to return to the peaceful agreement that has lasted so long and will allow you to-"

Grondo cut off whatever the protocol droid was going to say. "He will _not_ investigate here and you will _not_ allow him. You will do as _I_ say-"

"I'm not dead _yet_," Issulla growled back.

"He's _Jedi_, who _knows_ what he'll-"

The argument was interrupted by a beeping communicator.

_Master? I've found some _interesting_ things._

"What is it?" Grondo growled.

An Imbat grunted over the communicator and the protocol droid translated, "Master Jedi, it would appear that your young companion has gotten lost from his guide."

Obi-Wan didn't need to fake the long-suffering sigh. "I must apologize. My Padawan is a handful. He has the most insatiable curiosity. I remember when he was exploring the vents and wiring in the Temple and wound up falling through some ductwork until he was outside and in the lower levels of Coruscant."

And, as Obi-Wan predicted, Grondo paled and started shouting orders into the communicator, slithering his bulk out the door.

Issulla laughed once the smaller Hutt was gone. Turning to the protocol droid, she growled, "Shut down." It did without a word. She turned and raised a brow, studying the Jedi. "You understand Huttese, Jedi."

Obi-Wan grinned. "You display keen insight and wisdom, milady," he replied, also in Huttese.

She laughed again, her bulk quivering. "A charmer as well as a Jedi. I haven't been so amused in decades."

"You give me far too much credit and are much too kind," he replied with a bow.

"Ha. I have dealt with you Jedi many times. I know how to handle them, despite what that idiot Grondo thinks. You can never fool a Jedi for long, so I do not wish to."

"But Grondo's impulsiveness gets in the way."

"Impulsive. Now that's _not_ the word I would use." The large Hutt leaned back, sipping her drink. "You will find that Grondo is trying to take over. He wishes to acquire some 'cheap' goods from a particular store he knows of."

The male Twi'lek stepped forward, offering a small datachip that Obi-Wan hid within his sleeves.

"I thank you, milady."

Issulla laughed again. "I don't do this for you, Jedi. Grondo has been a thorn in my side since he arrived. He doesn't understand that the best way to make profits is to not draw attention. I have honored that silly agreement with Home Planet because I can do things _my_ way as long as they don't look. And by ignoring the mines on the land, they _don't_ look."

Obi-Wan bowed. "And I am merely here to make sure that agreement is held to." Though Issulla had all but stated that what she did would probably make his stomach turn, he could not right all the wrongs he came across. It was the one great frustration that many Jedi came across. There were trillions upon trillions of beings across the galaxy, and only a few thousand Jedi.

"I am not stupid, Jedi," Issulla sipped again from her drink. "You have had to come here. I'm going to have to cut into my profits to clean up a few things, else you'll keep looking until you can take something to the Senate and upset my operations here."

"Milady," Obi-Wan said with a grin, "Do I sense a bit of distrust?"

She laughed again. "Oh no. Just pragmatism. You Jedi are far too idealistic for the real world. But when you're around, everyone must hold to those ideals."

Obi-Wan smiled openly. "Ah, but that just improves things wherever we go."

* * *

"... and the planet I came from didn't have any mining at all and obviously neither does the Temple so I've never seen a structure like this and where do those pipes lead and why are the lights here all florescent when you can use other types that use up much less energy and how come the hallways are so narrow, huh?" Anakin paused in his diatribe of observations to eye the Imbat. The hulking creature just plodded on, apparently oblivious to the many things he had been saying. Sighing, the Padawan decided that there was no particular need for subterfuge if the person he was duping was really as dumb as he appeared to be. "You don't talk much, do you?" he asked in a plaintive tone.

The Imbat said nothing as it walked through the narrow hallways.

Not to be put off, Anakin tried again. "So, where are we going on this tour?"

"Rounds," the two-meter tall creature ground out.

It took several minutes for Anakin to realize the gift that he had just been given. Imbats were not known for their intelligence, and without a clear idea on where to take the kid on a "tour" and seemed to translate it as "rounds." Those stupid Hutts had given him a handout - the Imbat would likely take Anakin through all the parts of the complex they _didn't_ want him to go. For the moment he was perfectly content to follow the guy, eyeing the power cables strung out over their heads and other mechanical and engineering oddities to file away for "points of interest" when he reported back to his master.

During their "tour," the Imbat took him to a quartermaster hangar - a location Anakin quickly tried to memorize as where he'd be spending much more time later when the Imbat's tour became boring. He also spied two major lifts, likely where the workers were funneled at the beginning and end of each shift. The main hanger, interestingly, was _not_ the one he and Obi-Wan had flown into, but one several levels down and very, very, busy. It was about this time Anakin slowly fell behind the Imbat increasing the distance until he just turned and walked away; his tour guide didn't even notice.

The Padawan quickly started examining the cargo that was waiting to be loaded on the transports; most of the labels were in Huttese, and growing up on Tatooine he knew that what was said was not necessarily what was in the boxes. He instead looked at the stamped weights and fragility levels. If a box was labeled Ionite, for example, it would weigh just that much, yes; and the fragility given it's neutrality would be high... yes, just like that. Anakin stood, frowning. He had expected the numbers not to match the label's needs, but they did; meaning this was most likely a legitimate shipment. He looked around and saw that many of the cargo boxes were legitimate. That meant there was nothing interesting here.

Pouting, Anakin started to back track, thinking. If he were a Hutt and knew that Jedi were coming, the best thing to do would be to hide the loot where they likely wouldn't go. In a facility like this, that would most likely mean underwater in the mines. Anakin remembered his briefing material, the Great Sea was several miles deep, and he would likely need some kind of pressure suit in order to explore down there. So, his first stop had to be the quartermaster hangar.

While making his way back there, he passed the lifts when he heard their hydraulics whirring to life. He quickly ducked over a catwalk and hung underneath it. The last thing he needed now was to be caught snooping around. He wanted to finish the mission quickly, both for Obi-Wan's sake so nothing would happen to him, and so he could get back to Coruscant and learn everything he could about his master's Padawanship with Qui-Gon. He was surprised to hear cries of pain when the lift doors opened.

"Uaagh! I can't feel my legs! I can't feel my legs! Help me, please!"

Anakin risked peaking his head up to see a giant Imbat dragging a Meerian, her legs bent at unnatural angles, her white hair turned black with soot and dirt. The Imbat was not gentle; he only held a wrist and literally dragged her over the catwalks and hallways, giving no heed to her shrieks of pain and cries for help. Unable to turn away, Anakin waited until they had turned a corner before silently leaping back up to the catwalk and following. He couldn't ignore a cry for help, let alone someone obviously in pain, and besides, he rationalized to himself, the medical center might have some more interesting things to uncover. He still hadn't found the stolen mining supplies, and a Jedi wouldn't be expected to go to a medical center.

Right?

That was what he told himself as he tread on silent feet after the screams of agony.

The med-center was marked with a tiny door with grimy lettering, clearly an unused part of the mine. Though unsurprising, Anakin's stomach still churned at the thought. He had very vague memories of Gardulla, but they were enough to make him shudder at the thought of what the poor Meerian could expect in terms of treatment. Stepping in, Anakin immediately found himself face to face with the Imbat who brought the injured girl in. Flushed with adrenaline, Anakin had to think very quickly on his feet as the hulking creature demanded why he was here. Calling on the Force, he brought up his hand and concentrated on the Imbat's thick, gravely mind. "You need to go back to work," he said with all the authority he could muster.

"... I need to go back to work," the Imbat replied in dull tones. Anakin quickly stepped away and let the creature go before breathing a sigh of relief.

"Too close," he muttered to himself before turning to see what might be of interest. Stepping down the narrow entry hall, the center opened up to what would be a modest hanger if not for the fact that over half of it was used for storage space. Lighting was poor, only a dozen energy-eating bulbs across the entire hangar. Weary of more guards, Anakin hopped onto a respectable pile of crates to assess the room. He saw and felt no other minds, and slowly he climbed back down the crates and packages to a back corner where he could hear the moaning of the injured worker. She looked as though she had been haplessly thrown on an under-cushioned gurney and left there. Her legs weren't set, nothing about her had been cleaned, and nothing resembling IVs or sedatives were set up around her. Appalled, Anakin stepped forward, putting a finger to his lips in the universal sign of silence when the Meerian caught sight of him.

She moaned again, swallowing a lump in her throat and whispered, "Please... help me..."

"I will," Anakin said softly, assessing the damage. One leg was utterly shattered, the other didn't look as bad. "What happened?" he asked, looking around the hangar for anything that would do for a splint.

"Ionite... wiped out the sensors... had a collapse... they said I was the only one they could 'salvage'..."

Anakin pulled at a crate, the metal box groaned against him but held true. Frowning, Anakin looked for a hinge or a lock, but it seemed to be hermetically sealed. He moved to a different crate, but it seemed to be made of the same stuff. Perturbed, he pulled out his lightsaber and cut the damn box, taking one side and cutting it to strips for a splint.

"You... you're a Jedi...?"

Anakin turned around to give a cocky grin, clipping his lightsaber back to his belt. The Meerian moaned and struggled to sit up. "Geh... Get me out.. please... get..." She slumped back to the bed.

It was only then that Anakin realized that life had just gotten complicated. How could he get this injured being out while still looking for evidence of the Hutt's treachery at the same time?

Then he looked inside the boxes he's just sliced open.

During the hours of hyperspace travel, both he and Obi-Wan had spent the time pouring over data pads in preparation for the mission: dossiers on current government and capital heads, net incomes and worth of major companies, photo studies of several major mines and the Enrichment Zones (that Anakin had at the time ignored, thinking them boring. He regretted that now...), and an inventory of common tools used for underground and undersea mining. So, when explosion sticks and drills and sensor monitors that had Basic instead of Huttese lettering on it had fallen out of the box, Anakin knew immediately what he was looking at.

He decided that this might be a good time to contact his master.

_Master, I've found some_ interesting_ things._ He felt the query to his comment, but the Meerian started moaning and groaning again, and he knew that he needed to shift his priorities. Pulling the strips of metal up with him, he put them on either side of the shattered leg. He looked at the Meerian with sympathy. "I have to set your leg," he said gently. It was the only warning she had before he grabbed the ankle and started rearranging the leg to what it was supposed to be. The resulting shriek of pain pierced his ears, making him wince. He looked around quickly but could find nothing to tie the brace, and so he quickly tugged off his robe and ripped it to strips. Mentally, Anakin made a note to take more first aid courses. Would all missions be like this?

With her leg set, he grabbed a stolen mining sensor, the only thing small enough for him to carry, and stuffed it into his utility belt. From the belt, he pulled out fistful of bacta patches and applied them to some of the open cuts on the Meerian that he could see. Asking if she could walk was a joke, so he didn't even bother, instead coaxing her to grab his neck and hoisting her to his back. The movement seemed to cause her nothing but pain, and her grip fisted, moans and tears burning into his back. Anakin gave the worker a moment to get (remotely) comfortable, and then started navigating the boxes to the door, palming it open and looking out to the narrow hallways.

Sneaking her out was laughable; she was in too much pain to be quiet and Anakin hadn't even started learning about stealth in any of his classes. The Force wasn't exactly talking to him either, he didn't know how to use it for this kind of... operation.

He sighed, realizing he would have to bluff his way out of here, mind-tricking anyone he came across to go away so that he could make it to the transport and stow her away.

He had no idea if he even _could_ mind trick the entire facility, of course, but what choice did he have?

Anakin took a deep breath and released it slowly, stepping quietly out to the hallway and backtracking the way he had come. Once the Meerian was on the transport, Anakin planned, he could go back to his master and show him the stolen sensor; then they could arrest the Hutts and they would resist - but that was okay because they were _Jedi_ and they had _lightsabers_ and Anakin could protect his master and show off how well he'd been learning the forms. It was all planned out very neatly in his head. He could already taste the victory.

Then the smaller Hutt, Grondo, slithered down the hallway with an impressive force of Imbats.

What was that saying about best-laid plans?

Anakin brought up his will, trying to focus the Force through his adrenaline; the mind was slippery, slimy like the Hutt he was, and Anakin couldn't get a firm hold on it.

Grondo laughed. "Ho, ho, ho, ho; little Jedi thinks he can mind trick me?" he said in Huttese. With a flick of a stubby hand the Imbats pushed forward, their thick tree-like legs eating up distance.

Anakin spun around and ran. A number of curses flew into his mind to describe the situation, but he didn't have time to voice them as he realized his legs were much, much shorter than that of the guards. Calling on the Force, he tried to increase his speed, but the injured Meerian's moans and groans kept interrupting his concentration. Frowning, he raced along a catwalk and saw another one directly above him. He stopped for a brief moment, concentrated, and leapt up - higher than he'd ever managed to do before - and grab the catwalk with a hand. Swinging wildly, he tried to haul himself up, but quickly discovered that was harder than he'd initially thought. One hand was useless, holding onto the Meerian and keeping her from falling into the waiting arms of her captors, and he didn't have the strength to pull up the extra weight. Anakin frowned at the trouble he'd put on himself, but he refused to stop his rescue of the woman and stubbornly started swinging his legs, trying to build up enough momentum to flip them over the rails and dash to safety.

The Padawan knew he was cornered when he saw Imbat guards filing through the catwalk above him. Blasters were trained on him, ready to fire.

"Anakin! What are you _doing_?"

He turned relieved eyes to his master, happy that he was here, until he saw the blank, neutral face of the bearded man as he and Issulla came up the walk below him. Obi-Wan stood directly below him and crossed his arms over his chest, radiating disapproval. Worse, he turned to the larger Hutt.

"I did say my Padawan has a rather insatiable curiosity, did I not?" he said in calm genial tones, even _smiling_.

"Master!" he called down. "Any time you want to jump in and save us?"

"Oh, no," Obi-Wan countered, looking up. "You seem to have set things up so nicely, why would I want to interfere?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anakin retorted, "Maybe because these stupid guards are about to _kill_ us?"

Obi-Wan turned to Issulla. "Now, surely," he drawled, a finger tracing his beard, "no such atrocity was about to be committed, am I correct?"

"On _my_ facility?" Issulla said in Basic, "I would never allow it." She threw a meaningful glare to Grondo, and the smaller Hutt started sputtering in his native tongue. She turned to the Imbat guards, "Lower your weapons!" she bellowed in Huttese. They complied, of course, and she quickly gave another order for them to leave.

Obi-Wan looked up, his mouth hidden behind his hand. "Was there anything else you needed?" he called up to Anakin.

"How did you _do_ that?" the boy demanded in response, still clinging to the catwalk and keeping the Meerian safe at the same time. His master offered up his arms, and Anakin took a moment to concentrate on his landing before leaping back down. The injured worker groaned pitifully at the landing, but Anakin refused to let her go in case they needed to run again. A hand went to his belt, ready to grab his lightsaber as he eyed the enemy Hutts.

Obi-Wan firmly put a hand on his shoulder. _Stay silent,_ the command came across the bond. To the Hutts, he said, "I must apologize for my Padawan," he said in placating tones, "he has an unprecedented knack for letting his curiosity get the better of him. I hope that his transgressions do not reflect ill on us and our goal for a peaceful resolution."

Grondo growled in Huttese. "I want my worker back!"

"You can't have her!" Anakin retorted. "After the collapse she was the only one you could 'salvage!' She was _dragged_ to a med-center that doubled as a storage center and _left_ there!"

Grondo gaped. "He knows Huttese!" he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy. Obi-Wan was rubbing his beard. His initial glance of disapproval quickly shifted over to Issulla.

Anakin continued: "And I have proof now that you're the ones behind the thefts!" He quickly reached into his utility belt and thrust the mining sensor out for the other three to see. "This was in a box in the med-center!" He leveled a cocky grin at the Hutts. "Did you think that no one would think to look there?" he demanded. "You should have picked a better hiding place."

_Quiet_.

Anakin startled, looking up at his master. Obi-Wan's hand was still gripping his shoulder, and his face was hidden from view both by the lower angle of Anakin's line of sight and by the hand that was rubbing his chin. Soft the thought may have been, but the gravity of it, the firmness of it drilled all the way down his spine, grinding him to a halt.

"My lady Issulla," Obi-Wan said, turning to the larger Hutt. "These are tactics that I hardly approve of."

"I'm offended!" she said, making a motion that clutched one of her hearts. "I am but a simple Hutt of business. Mining is such a dangerous profession, collapses could happen all the time! How could I know that there would be injuries, I was with you, Jedi, the whole time. And any 'stolen goods,'" she swiveled her head the few inches necessary to look at her partner, "Are certainly nothing that _I_ know about."

Grondo snorted. "Nor I," he said. "For all we know, the little _Jedi_ planted it there."

Anakin balked. "I'm not-"

_**Quiet**_.

His mouth closed against his will, Obi-Wan having shut it with the Force. His master was speaking again. "I can only offer my assurances, again, of our neutrality in this conflict, and that we would have nothing to gain by planting such evidence. Instead, I have an offer for you: let us take the injured worker off your hands; she is clearly in need of immediate medical attention, and if the med-center is as poorly equipped as my curious young Padawan implies it would be much simpler for us to take her off your hands. In exchange, we will say nothing of the alleged stolen property that my Padawan found."

Alleged?

His mouth shut with the Force before he even had a chance to open it.

"You make good deals, Jedi," Issulla said, giving a deep chuckle. She clapped her hands against her massive bulk, amused. "It is a deal."

Both Anakin and Grondo sputtered. "But-!"

The looks Issulla and Obi-Wan gave them both brooked no room for argument, Anakin because of the sudden overpowering presence of his master in the Force, Grondo because the Twi'lek companion of Issulla leveled a blaster at him.

"Come, Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly, his grip finally releasing slightly, "Let us get your friend some help."

* * *

Obi-Wan deliberately kept silent on the transport back, his eyes closed against the persistent stare of his Padawan. Their first concern was the injured Meerian, she was only semi-conscious now, Anakin's adventure having driven her almost to shock. Obi-Wan used the Force to scan her, showing his Padawan how to do it - assuming he was focused enough to pay attention, and saw that there was more than her leg that was severely injured. If there had been a collapse, Obi-Wan sincerely would have doubted this poor being would have been considered "salvageable," leading yet more credence to his initial conjecture.

Once the transport landed on Bandor, Obi-Wan immediately commed for medical assistance, and it was only when he knew that the Meerian would be well cared for did he look at his Padawan.

"We have much to discuss," he said finally.

Anakin nodded; the boy was seething with emotions, projecting them at full volume: confusion, frustration, anger born of embarrassment, fear of reprisal from his master. Obi-Wan wanted to deal with this, but the Meerian had been the top priority.

"Then let us go to-"

"Obi-Wan!"

The two looked up to see Clat'Ha jogging up to them. "I just heard about the call for a medical assist! What happened? Don't tell me those stupid Hutts tried to ambush you!"

Not now... Obi-Wan fingered his beard in frustration of his own, and when he glanced at his Padawan he saw the boy respond to his feelings, having picked something up through the bond. He cleared his throat and stepped forward, silently bidding his Padawan watch and learn how to deal with people. "Nothing of the sort happened," the Jedi said smoothly, raising a placating hand. "We came across and injured worker while Anakin was taken on a tour of the facility, and their medical center is currently... under-equipped... to handle it. I offered that we take her off their hands and they accepted."

Anakin started to open his mouth but Obi-Wan snapped it shut with a pulse through the Force. Clat'Ha was the last person on the planet who needed to hear of Anakin's adventure, halfway through and she would be taking her blaster and setting off. Already, she was shouting disapproval.

"They can't be trusted! If they willingly let someone go there had to be a reason for it; did the transport check her before hauling her off? She's not wired with anything was she? You can't trust those conniving slugs to-"

"You never did tell me whom you lost," Obi-Wan said softly, lowering his hand from his beard and leveling her a kindly gaze. The redhead flushed, her green eyes flashing as they so often did. "Even after all these years you still can't let that person go; you hold onto the pain and channel it to your hatred of the Hutts. It's not healthy."

She shuddered and looked away. "I'll check on the Meerian for you," she said quickly, striding away as fast as she could.

He nodded in acknowledgment though she did not see it, and gestured that his Padawan follow before there were more interruptions. It was only when they were both safely squared away in their room, the door palmed shut and tea made for them both, that Obi-Wan sat on the floor and gestured Anakin to join him.

"First things first," he said, "What did you learn. Every detail."

Anakin launched into explanation, his tone similar to the one he would take when having a particularly frustrating day. His ire did not affect his detail, however, as the boy dived into explanation of power cables and structural weaknesses and other points he thought would be tactically advantageous. Obi-Wan internally groaned; _where_ did the boy get the idea that they would be storming the facility? The primary hangar was interesting but not essential, and Obi-Wan learned something from his Padawan about how Hutts handled shipments. The entire story bout the Meerian only further shored up his thoughts, and he nodded as Anakin finished, thinking.

"This clarifies a few things," he said, "And in some ways it muddles things."

"_How_? Anakin demanded.

Did he have to spell it out for the boy?

"Anakin, there are two powers at war here."

"Yeah! Us and them!"

"_No_, Anakin, Grondo and Issulla. There is a power struggle on the Great Sea. Issulla knows how to work the system and is frankly happy to keep things as they are. It's the newcomer, Grondo, who is upsetting the balance. For whatever reason he was sent here, his goal is clear: to usurp Issulla's position and retake the planet."

"They're _Hutts!_ What difference does it make?" Anakin demanded.

Obi-Wan stared at him, before his vision narrowed. "You're letting your emotions, your anger, cloud your senses."

Anakin glared in response.

"And now we're going to meditate."

"... _What?_"

An hour later, Obi-Wan had helped his Padawan clear his mind, release his emotions, and think more clearly.

"Picture this," Obi-Wan said, still meditation. "Grondo comes to Bandomeer intent on taking over the planet the way it was fifteen years ago. Issulla, happy to keep things as they are because of the freedom it grants her, opposes his ideas. Grondo supercedes here and begins planning his hostile takeover; massing arms and weaponry - as you suspect - in the mines underwater. Issulla can't do anything about him, but she can draw attention to him. Whether she or Grondo stole the mining materials is immaterial, instead she hears of our coming and deliberately plants them in the medical wing; and everything after that is mere setup."

He felt Anakin blink, falling out of the calming meditation as the implications of Obi-Wan's theory struck home. "You mean, she deliberately caused the collapse of the mine and picked a random worker to throw into the med-center _just_ so the stolen goods could be found? That's... That's..."

"Calm your mind, Anakin," Obi-Wan reproached, still in his meditative state. "It was a calculated risk she took; she was willing to jail herself in order to get Grondo off of her facility. And you're assuming there actually was a collapse. Regardless, it was guaranteed to get that miner out of the facility."

"And why _didn't_ we jail her?" Anakin demanded, gesturing wildly.

"Because there is no proof that events occurred as I described," Obi-Wan explained, finally exiting out of his trance. He took a deep breath and rubbed his beard. "She would have covered her tracks far too carefully for there to be proof. Besides, how the Hutts treat their workers is not the reason we are here."

"_How can you say that!_"

Obi-Wan could not get a word in edgewise after that, and it was another twenty minutes before his Padawan's passionate reprisal finally blew itself out. He could hear Qui-Gon in those words, and Obi-Wan found he couldn't stop Anakin as he shouted and yelled at the injustice of it all. He remembered his own words to similar affect; shocked on the way to Bandomeer to learn of how workers were treated. Ah, to be that naïve again, he thought, remembering his indignation and his frustration that Qui-Gon willingly ignored, even allowed, such injustice to continue.

When silence lasted more than twenty seconds, Obi-Wan shook off his memories and leveled a meaningful look at his Padawan. "Are you done?" he asked, hoping not to weather another storm.

"... Yes," Anakin said in morose tones. He plopped back onto the floor, his head low and emanating feelings of helplessness and dejected disgust.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan started softly, hoping his voice would sound understanding. "The sad fact of the matter is that there are trillions of people in the galaxy, and only a few thousand Jedi. We cannot right every wrong in the galaxy; my own master told me this. You will burn yourself out trying."

"... Yes, Master," came in dull tones. Obi-Wan sighed and hoped that it would be enough.

"We were able to save the one Meerian, and because Jedi have visited the facilities, Issulla will improve the working environment for a few years at least. We cannot use the stolen goods you uncovered because we don't know which of them stole the goods, and besides which it was part of the deal to get the Meerian woman to safety. Though that makes proof difficult at this stage it is not impossible. The bigger problem is Grondo, and on that score at least Issulla has been an unprecedented help."

This made his Padawan look up. "What do you mean?"

Obi-Wan held up the data chip the male Twi'lek had given him. "Let us find out, shall we?"

**

* * *

Author's Note**: Well, at least this drabble matches the title a bit better. We thought it amusing that you always see female Twi'lek slaves in skimpy clothes, but never male Twi'leks. Hence Issulla's little companion. This one's very plot-moving, but we see some of the themes we wanted in our Bandomeer drabble with Obi-Wan spacing out and remembering how things were the first time around. Note that his and Qui-Gon's positions are quite reversed. He's the calm master taking things slowly and dealing with them subtlely while Anakin is the impassioned one who wants to right every wrong he comes across and impulsively investigating on his own. Nice little trade. So how is it to walk in your master's boots, Obi-Wan? ^_^

Next week: The end of Obi-Wan and Anakin's mission to Bandomeer. What would it be without a shoot-out? And, since it will be the end of this first "arc", there will be a break before we start posting the Clone Wars arc.


	14. Where There's Fighting

**Where There's Fighting**

Anakin still didn't know what to make of the situation. The chip that Issulla had given Obi-Wan had the time and place of the next planned theft, along with a list of what had been stolen previously and from where. His master thought that she had stolen this information from Grondo. Anakin thought that it was proof that Issulla was just as in on it. But for all his arguing and countering, Obi-Wan had a good point. Issulla had kept things peaceful for fifteen years, why would she want things to change now? But Anakin didn't _want_ to give her that sort of credit. She was a Hutt. That automatically made her evil. But apparently, as Obi-Wan had patiently explained, she was the lesser of three evils. Either Issulla stayed in power and things remained peaceful, Grondo took over the Great Sea and would likely then aim for all of Bandomeer, or both could be removed and some other Hutt or sleamo would come and then who _knew_ what would happen.

Needless to say, Anakin didn't like it one bit. He conceded the point, but he was decidedly _not_ happy with it. When he pointed out that the Home Planet could take over mining in the Great Sea, Obi-Wan had raised an eyebrow and pointed at the datapad with all the information on Bandomeer on it. A quick review and Anakin realized that Home Planet probably didn't _have_ the resources or capability to start mining in the Great Sea.

So he agreed with his master's plan to let Issulla stay in charge. For now. Hopefully the Force would provide a better option.

Anakin held his lightsaber close; peering over the edge of the catwalk he was lying on, Obi-Wan by his side. They were in position at the facility that was supposed to be hit by Grondo. It was a large facility on a seaside cliff, like most of the places that had been stolen from. Here, supplies were stored before getting shipped out to the various mines across the land half of the planet. Various security forces had been placed in the facility, hidden so that they could catch Grondo red-handed. Irrefutable proof, then Issulla would be left in charge of the Great Sea mines and the situation would be resolved.

While the resolution they were aiming for wasn't one that Anakin particularly liked, he wasn't thinking about it much at the moment. This would be the first _real_ battle he'd been a part of. Even though he was hailed as the Hero of Naboo (as the Chancellor often greeted him), he hadn't really done anything beyond blowing up the thinking center of the droids. He spent most of that battle trying to figure out how to pilot the ship he was in with Artoo and things going wrong, then right, then somewhere. Right then, on Bandomeer, however, was different. This was going in to _fight_. Not tussle with friends like on Tatooine, not spar with classmates like back at the Temple, not scuffle in the street with jerks. A real _fight_. Battle.

And as much as Anakin had looked forward to this, the adventure of it all, he was oddly nervous... and scared... He wouldn't be inside a ship's thick hull. He'd be exposed. His opponents wouldn't be hidden in Pods or even racing. They'd be trying to _kill_ him. Not knock him out of the race, not kick him off the mat. _Kill_ him. _Hurt_ him. _Stop_ him. This was... very different than he expected. Still exciting, in an odd way, but also very scary.

An arm was suddenly around him in a loose equivalent of a hug, the best Obi-Wan could ever do when not in private. "Be calm, Padawan mine. All will be well."

Anakin blinked, noting the unusual use of "Padawan mine," and looked to his master. Master Yoda's words that Obi-Wan would need him increased his nervousness.

"Anakin," his master continued almost silently. "You've proven over and over again that you have excellent instincts within you. Trust them and the Force will guide you."

He nodded.

"Instincts, however, can only guide you so far," Obi-Wan continued, his arm tightening briefly around Anakin's shoulders. "You have proceeded with fantastic speed in your lightsaber training. One would think you'd learned it from birth-"

Anakin couldn't stop the smile.

"-but for all your instinct you lack experience." Obi-Wan pulled his arm back and lay the hand on the one that held Anakin's lightsaber. "You often argue with me because you see things differently and bring up points that I would never have thought of. However, I ask that in this you do not argue with me. I have experience in battle, you do not."

Anakin nodded, disliking the admission.

"During this encounter, if I tell you to do something, do not question, simply do. I will be seeing a larger picture than you and acting upon it."

"Yes, Master." And as much as it chaffed Anakin that Obi-Wan wouldn't trust him to handle himself, the thought that his master was looking out for him made Anakin relax. Because if Obi-Wan was by his side, everything would be all right.

"Open the bond, Padawan," Obi-Wan said, knocking ever so gently and politely on his side of their link. "I can keep a better eye on you that way and, when this is over, we'll see if you learned anything from what you observed of me."

Anakin nodded, already feeling the gentle warmth of his master more acutely in the back of his mind. Obi-Wan's presence removed the last of the anxiety and Anakin was surprised to feel the Force around him with more clarity than he usually did.

_Amazing what a calm mind can do, hmm?_

He chose not to respond.

"Obi-Wan?" their radio crackled. "Are you in position?"

"Yes, Clat'Ha," he replied quietly, his hand leaving Anakin's, but the presence continued to glow warmly. "Are you sure you should be here?"

"The day I can't do this kind of thing is the day I retire," she responded. "Everyone's ready. We just need our guest of honor to show."

"Excellent. Now, we merely wait."

* * *

Waiting indeed! Anakin didn't know why he bothered to be nervous when, almost four hours later, there was _still_ nobody there. The Force was still clear, but Anakin had to admit, he didn't know how Obi-Wan could keep it going for so long. Anakin, himself was bored and ready to take a nap. Already, his master had had to nudge him when he tried to rest his eyes and nearly fell asleep.

Over the radio, there were speculations that Issulla had provided false information, that they should pull out and check other installations that were probably being robbed as they just sat there and did nothing. Anakin was inclined to agree with them. Surely _something_ should have happened by now.

Anakin was resting his head again when he noticed Obi-Wan stiffen beside him.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan's face was looking to the side, through the wall that faced the Great Sea and Anakin wondered what had caught his attention. He tried to look through the Force to see what was up, but all he felt was a faint ripple of something he didn't understand.

"Grondo and company are inbound," Obi-Wan whispered over the radio. Tension started to fill the air and Anakin was _sure_ he heard safety's being clicked off of blasters, though he didn't know how given that he and Obi-Wan weren't anywhere near the other security people.

"We have visual," was hissed over the radio.

"Stay in position," Clat'Ha ordered. "Give them enough rope to hang themselves."

They settled into silence once more, tensely waiting for Grondo's thieves to enter the facility. For what seemed like an eternity, there was nothing but silence. Ever so faintly, Anakin could hear the engine of Grondo's ship arrive before it cut off, no doubt at the dock. Silence again. Slowly, harsh whispers as the thieves entered the facility and filtered into the warehouse.

Many, were speaking in Huttese. Anakin grinned. Who knew growing up on that tiny desert ball was worth something.

"Make it fast. That ocean storm cost us too much time," an Imbat grunted, prodding the other thieves forward.

"You'd _better_ be fast," was the low grumble of none other than the small, dark Grondo who slid into view. "I want as much as possible so we can put it in Issulla's private storehouse. The sooner she's taken off planet, the sooner I can run things properly."

Anakin turned to his master. Certainly, now was the right time to strike?

_A moment more._

He gave a quiet huff. Obi-wan sent a dry chuckle.

There were easily fifty thieves below them. Some were Imbats, many were human. What was disturbing, however, was that several of the thieves had collars. Anakin stilled, knowing from the reading he'd done and Obi-Wan's own tale of his time here, what those collars meant. They were using slaves. So that even if they were caught, they were hostages.

This was why Anakin _hated_ Hutts.

_I'm not particularly fond of them either_, Obi-Wan's presence whispered, a sharp tone of disgust under it. _But we can handle it. The Force can disarm those collars. That will be our job_.

Anakin nodded.

Below, the thieves were starting to break open crates, inspecting items and double-checking to make sure it was what they wanted.

Now that they truly were redhanded, Obi-Wan and Anakin stood as one, and easily leapt forward, the Force cushioning their fall as they landed in front of Grondo in the middle of all the thieves.

Stunned silence.

"Hello there, esteemed Grondo," Obi-Wan greeted with a polite smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

A long stream of curses came out. Anakin took note of a few he hadn't heard before. As blasters were aimed at the two of them, Obi-Wan made a small gesture and the lights of the facility all came on, revealing the trap. High in an observation office, a holocamera was recording everything as security forces poured out of hiding places, surrounding the thieves.

"It's over, Grondo. Come along quietly," Obi-Wan said.

Grondo glared, hatred pouring off of him in waves so strong Anakin couldn't help but shudder. In his mind, his master sent a soft pulse of warmth.

"_Attack_!" Grondo shouted, pulling out a blaster of his own and opening fire.

Battle like this was different from what Anakin had expected.

First and foremost, it was _loud_. Not the steady hum of a Podracer's engines, or the loud cheers of a crowd, but a cacophony of sounds warring together. Blaster bolts, exploding crates, raining debris, shouts, screams of pain, hums of lightsabers, toppling supplies, orders, counter orders, grunts, growls, it was all jarring, sudden and there was no continuous hum of it all. It rose and fell in unpredictable crescendos and made it hard to focus.

His master sent something along the bond so fast Anakin couldn't catch it, other than the fact that the Force suddenly swirled and battle seemed oddly, quieter, making focus easier. He sent a thanks as his lightsaber whirled in the simple swings of Shii-Cho that Master Yoda had taught him and scores of other younglings at the Temple.

_Cover me. I'll start deactivating collars._

And suddenly, Anakin had a massive responsibility placed on his growing shoulders, because Anakin didn't know what his master had to do in order to deactivate the collars of the slaves. So he needed to _really_ keep an eye out and make sure his master was safe. Because Obi-Wan was _family_ and Master Yoda had said that Obi-Wan would _need_ him, and this just might be the time.

Anakin reached for the Force like he never really had before. Most of the time, when working with lightsabers or droids, or whatever required focus, he always seemed to sink into it without being aware of it. He simply had to do something so he did it. And this was such a time that he _needed_ it. It didn't work as well, and he knew it was because he was trying to force it, but he and Obi-Wan were maneuvering through the alleys and hideaways that all the crates of the warehouse made. He needed to know where Imbats and humans and Grondo were all located so that if any came to close to Obi-Wan he would take care of them.

The first slave they came to was hidden in a nook between two crates so narrow it was amazing the girl had even slid in. She cried out as she raised a blaster, but Obi-Wan merely kneeled and focused. Anakin guarded Obi-Wan's back as one of Grondo's men had somehow gotten to the catwalk and was trying to snipe at the security forces. It was easy deflection for Anakin, he could do this with his eyes closed as he often did during lightsaber practice, but it wasn't enough. He wanted that blaster bolt to be deflected back at the shooter, take him down quickly so he could worry about the next shot coming from an Imbat further down the alley of crates who had seen them.

Anakin wondered which of the other lightsaber forms could do this, because he wanted to start studying that _now_, because Obi-Wan _needed_ him to watch his back and Shii-Cho suddenly seemed woefully inadequate.

Obi-Wan was quick to deactivate the collar as it snapped off suddenly. The slave was still crying and holding the blaster in front of her, but Obi-Wan merely nodded and moved on with Anakin. The Imbat went down easily, but then Anakin knew that Obi-Wan had been working hard over the years to learn a new lightsaber form. Watching the quick and energy-saving flicks of blue humming around Obi-Wan, Anakin admired it for all the work he knew was put into it while he was in his classes. He didn't have more than an instant for that thought before he was once again deflecting blaster fire from the catwalks as they turned a corner and found another slave grimly aiming his blaster at the security forces up on the catwalks.

He didn't even see them coming as Obi-Wan reached forward for the collar.

The slaves they freed either turned on their prior owners and just huddled down and tried to hide, ignoring the battle that raged around them. The security forces, led by Clat'Ha who was up in the observation office barking orders into the radio, did a good job of taking down the Imbats and humans who were working for Grondo.

As for the Hutt Grondo, the sleamo was slithering with surprising speed between crates and picking off security one by one.

"Master, if we take down Grondo, won't that stop things quickly?" Anakin yelled over the blaster fire as Obi-Wan removed another collar from an exhausted male.

"He's too well defended at the moment," Obi-Wan replied and a picture came to Anakin's mind of were Grondo was and where the Hutt's forces were in comparison.

Oddly, this conflicted with what Anakin sensed. He tried to send the picture of it to Obi-Wan.

"That's the current moment, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, deflecting another blaster bolt. "If we go now, that's what it will look like."

"And you know this how?" Anakin's swing took down an Imbat and Human at once.

"Through the Force..."

And suddenly, in the middle of the firefight, in the wide-open alleys between two different types of crates, his master suddenly stopped. Not just stopped, but completely froze.

Ahead, through a wide docking hanger door, the sun was just starting to rise over the rough waters of the Great Sea, and Obi-Wan was staring at it with horror.

In Anakin's mind, he could see images, great silver-scaled beasts gliding to him, one such winged beast bearing Qui-Gon, another image of a wall of corpses of the golden-eyed avians, blaster fire surrounding the lizard-like predators and the faint voice of Obi-Wan through it all, _Will anything else from my first trip arrive here? Xanatos from the grave? VeerTa? _Obi-Wan's voice started to sound younger. _I know I'll never be good enough to be a Padawan, please don't reject me again... You're my last chance, Qui-Gon... Master..._

Obi-Wan's communicator beeped and he didn't even answer it. Anakin flicked his lightsaber against another bolt and yelled into it, "_What_?"

"Ah, the young Padawan," Issulla greeted in Huttese.

Anakin replied in kind, blocking bolt after bolt as Obi-Wan seemed to stare out at nothing. After the insults, he growled, "We're a _little_ busy here taking care of _your_ problem!"

Issulla gave a great laugh. "I've been monitoring. But I thought you might want to know that you're blaster fire has caught the eyes of some of the draigons of the area."

Anakin turned and slashed with his lightsaber again, taking off the hand and blaster of a lumbering Imbat. "Excuse me?"

"Draigons, brat. Draigons. You'd best close those hanger doors, else you'll be breakfast."

Anakin let out his own string of words; including a few he'd learned from Grondo just a half hour before to see how they rolled off the tongue. The images Obi-Wan was projecting made sense. He'd faced them before and all these reminders of what his previous mission here was like was dragging him into the past. Anakin had no clue where this insight was coming from, but he stopped blocking long enough to look inside, find his link and shove his way through.

"_Here and now, Obi-Wan_!" he yelled, both out loud, through the Force, and in his mind.

Because Obi-Wan had been right. His instincts were good, but he lacked experience and he was starting to feel overwhelmed.

* * *

It was a mental slap to the face, and suddenly Obi-Wan was back in the storage bunker, staring out the open hangar and seeing the silver swarm of draigons as they made their way towards them. There was also an impressively tall Imbat, perhaps three meters, readying a giant fist to smash into the face of his earnest Padawan. Obi-Wan quickly brought up his lightsaber, blocking the massive fist and then cutting in with a snap of his wrist, singing the Imbat's ribcage and giving the being something to think about. While doing so he started yelling into his communicator.

"Clat'Ha! Close the hangar bay doors!"

"What? Why?"

"There's a swarm of draigons interested in our crossfire! Close the doors or we'll be swarmed!"

"On it!" the redhead said from her location high above them.

Anakin and Obi-Wan were back to back, the Padawan using his Form I beginner's skills with the efficiency of the up-and-coming Kit Fisto, the master using his newly acquired Form III stances to make all harm thrown at them utterly harmless. It had been hard at first, Form IV had been Master Qui-Gon's style, and in the beginning he had clung to anything that reminded him of his departed master. Over time, however, he'd realized that he never, _never_, wanted to put his own Padawan, to put _Anakin_, through that unbearable experience. He needed to _survive_, and to do that he needed a strong defense. Soresu offered that, and he taken up the form with fervor. He still didn't have complete efficiency of the moves, he could sense the wasted energy, but he found the style effective beyond measure. The contingent that Grondo had amassed was impressive, and he doubted he and Anakin would be faring half as well without it.

Another blaster bolt was tossed aside and Obi-Wan found another slave. He knew how to disable the collars now and pop them off without injury, and he deactivated the machinery with a calm breath and a wave of a hand. The worker startled when the collar fell off, and that was all Obi-Wan allowed himself to take note of as he worked his way through the battle, Anakin at his back and keeping him safe.

Obi-Wan sunk into the Force, letting it fill his imperfect body and shrinking his own consciousness to a tiny corner in the back of his mind. Left, left, up, right, dash, disable, move. Each nudge moved his hand, each pull took a step, and soon he found himself upon the last collar. He took if off with a gesture and took a deep breath, satisfied at a job well done. The cacophony of blasters, too, seemed to have settled down.

"How are things with you, Padawan?" he asked slowly, taking another deep breath and still wading out of the Force.

The boy looked up at him with a slightly harried expression, panting but unhurt. "How..." he huffed, "How can you be... so calm... after all that?"

Obi-Wan blinked, a little surprised at the question. "The Force was with me," he said, as if that explained everything.

Anakin let out a strangled growl. "Did you find this... _easy_... or something?"

Now Obi-Wan was openly confused. "Easy? Certainly not, no battle is ever easy; though I do admit that I've had harder battles."

The strangled growl repeated itself, and Anakin threw his hands up in the air. "I spend all this time worrying over _nothing_? I'm going to beat that stupid troll into a pulp! Stupid Yoda!"

Now that was just disrespectful. "Padawan!" Obi-Wan intoned, bringing his full displeasure into his voice.

"Don't you 'Padawan' me! You have no idea what I've been through since coming here because of that stupid evil little troll! Did you know that he-"

"Obi-Wan!" came a frustrated crackle. Anakin was paused in his tirade and Obi-Wan quickly gave a response. "The blaster fire's totally fried the controls, I can't get the hangar doors to close."

"Blast," Obi-Wan cursed. He and Anakin shared a look, and the two silently agreed to talk later before they dashed through the maze of crates and supplies and bodies of security and thief alike, passing people being handcuffed and dragged away to the security transports. Grondo was nowhere to be seen, but Obi-Wan's primary concern was the hangar doors. The sun had crested the sea, one yellow globe of light that blinded all but those with the Force to help them. The swarm of draigons were much closer now, their silvery bodies indistinguishable from one another as they massed toward the port. One or two would dive down to the ocean to snack before the feast, but it was obvious that they found the beings in the port storehouse much more interesting as a main course. Sighing, Obi-Wan accepted his rush of irritation before letting it go; he didn't need it, especially now.

"Where's the manual overrides?" he asked Clat'Ha over his comm.

"On either side of the hangar," Clat'Ha explained. "It'll take two people to close it, assuming neither of them were blasted to bits."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, and the boy was already darting off. The Jedi smiled and let himself feel the pride before dashing in the opposite direction. As the redhead stipulated, there was a grey panel box on his side of the hangar bay. There were singe marks but no severe damage, and Obi-Wan was already unclipping the outer frame to gain access to the wiring underneath. He did not have the skills with mechanics and droids that his Padawan did, but he knew enough (and had subsequently learned much more from little Anakin) that he understood what wires were meant for what relays, and he was quickly cutting and reconnecting what he needed.

Finished, he sent a small pulse along his bond. _Anakin?_

_Damaged bad fixing now need time go away_, filtered in pieces back to his master. Obi-Wan felt that Anakin had sunk into the Force, much as he did when working on droids or, as story told, pod racing. Obi-Wan trusted the Force to guide his Padawan, and cast his gaze out to the silvery mass of flying predators, now swarming in front of the sun. One broke apart from the pack and dived for the hangar, and Obi-Wan met it, igniting his lightsaber and snapping it towards the aviary beast. It fell down the side of the cliff and Obi-Wan was once again remembering a rainy day with another swarm. He shook it off, however, and firmly planted his feet in the here and now, as his master, as his Padawan, had told him.

He heard a deep grinding sound from above, and a glance up showed that the doors were finally lowering slowly. Good. He eyed the draigons again, more were starting to dive at the hangar, and he was all too quickly sinking back into the Force. Up, right, block, thrust, left, left, stab, block, slice, _clang_.

... Clang? And Obi-Wan saw that at last the gap of the doors were narrow enough that the draigons could not fly through, instead banging and bucking against the doors as they continued to close. The Jedi blinked, taking a moment to absorb the scene, so similar and so different from his memory, and smiled. He had conquered his memory, in a way; he'd cast it aside - no, he'd put it away - and made a new memory to share the space with it. Obi-Wan suddenly thought of his master, not in his memory, but in the now. He closed his eyes and thought to him. _You would approve of this, wouldn't you?_

Smiling, he turned his head to find his Padawan, to send his own approval, his pride. The corner of his eyes was the only warning he had, Grondo had a blaster, and Obi-Wan was not with the Force, he didn't react quick enough. His lightsaber was on and moving to deflect but the move had too much energy, over compensating instead of meeting, and his arm suddenly exploded in pain.

The second shot he was ready for, however, and he blocked it easily along with the third.

"_Master!_" Anakin shouted both with his lungs and in his head; Obi-Wan almost went to clutch his temple with the noise the call generated, but he did not and leveled his gaze and the Hutt. Anakin was immediately in front of him, lightsaber out. He stole one look at Obi-Wan, and the Jedi saw his face contort with rage and watched in horror as his Padawan lunged towards the Hutt.

"Anakin! Anakin _stop_!" He reached out to the Force and literally yanked the boy back to his side, stepping in front of the child even while his gaze never left Grondo.

"I like that boy," Grondo said in Huttese, blaster still leveled at the Jedi. "He's got the makings of a Hutt."

Anakin growled and sputtered, but Obi-Wan held him back. "You're burglary failed, your minions are either captured or freed. I suggest you give up."

"Sure, sure," Grondo said, dropping his blaster and holding up his hands. "I won't be gone long. This is a clear miscarriage of justice. I've been set up, no court will convict me."

Obi-Wan smiled, genially. "We'll see about that," he replied as security came up to slap cuffs on Grondo. "After all, I'm sure Issulla's testimony will carry much... weight."

And it was clear on Grondo's face that he would likely not live to trial.

"This is my fault," Anakin moaned, watching a medic wrap a bandage over Obi-Wan's bicep. "This is my _fault_."

"Padawan," the Jedi said, confused with the latest mercurial shift in the boy's emotions. "What are you talking about?"

"Master Yoda," Anakin replied, looking down in sullen despair. "He told me you'd need me, and I've been so worried about it. I didn't know what it meant but I figured it'd be bad and now _this_ happened and I wasn't anywhere _near_ you and I couldn't _protect_ you and I need to get better so I _can_ protect you and Mom and Padme when I marry her and-"

Obi-Wan quickly put a hand on his Padawan's shoulder. "Anakin," he said softly. "From where I'm sitting I'd say you did a very good job."

Anakin stared angrily at the white bandage and then up at his master.

The Jedi smiled. "I wonder if perhaps you're taking things to literally. All Master Yoda said was that I would need you, is that correct?" The boy nodded. "That can be interpreted several ways. You were thinking in the physical sense, protecting me from physical injury. _I_ rather think Master Yoda referred more of my mental state. I was rather... wrapped up... in the memories of my first time to this planet. You helped me through that, by making me relive all those memories to purge them from my system, and then overlaying them with new memories with you. It was you, wasn't it, who told me to focus on the here and now? That is something that Master Qui-Gon would tell me many times, and now I have you to tell me. I'd say you did rather well, Padawan."

Anakin continued to pout, staring at Obi-Wan's bandaged arm. Obi-Wan thought he heard a thought, _I'll be better next time_, and he could only shake his head. It was something Anakin would have to learn. Sighing, he decided to change the topic.

"By the way," he said in a more amused tone, reaching into his belt. "Rumor has it that someone's birthday is today."

Anakin's head snapped to attention.

"The thirteenth birthday is very important for a Padawan," Obi-Wan explained. "Jedi do not own many possessions, but on the thirteenth birthday of a Padawan the Master is expected to give a gift. I've been thinking about it for a long time now, but I believe I've finally found something appropriate. Hold out your hands."

Curious and eager, Anakin complied, and Obi-Wan carefully set his gift there.

Anakin stared at it in disbelief.

"... A _rock_?"

"Much more than a rock, look at it again." Anakin stared at it skeptically, and Obi-Wan coughed and tapped his head slightly, a subtle hint. He knew when Anakin realized the nature of the river rock when he gasped. At his look of askance Obi-Wan explained. "It's Force sensitive. It was the gift Master Qui-Gon gave me for my thirteenth birthday. It's been rather a treasured possession of mine."

"... And you're giving it to _me_? I can't accept-"

Obi-Wan held up a hand. "'A Jedi let's go of personal attachments.' Honestly, though, I'm happy to give it to you. I think it's appropriate that something that gave me such good memories should be given to you so that you can make your own memories. Perhaps you can pass it to your own Padawan when the time comes. For now though, it makes a very handy touchstone."

Anakin looked down, suddenly shy, and bowed his head. "Thank you, Master."

"Happy birthday, Anakin."

**Author's Note**: Hehehe. Anakin _did_ save his master, too bad he doesn't see it. ^_^ Really, Anakin and Obi-Wan's changes are _subtle_ for this arc. When Jude Watson's _Jedi Quest_ series starts, nothing really changes for Anakin and Obi-Wan. Palpatine is still whispering in Ani's ears and he and Obi-Wan still butt heads. But there _are_ subtleties going on that will start appearing when we get to the Clone Wars.

Speaking of, just to be clear, our Clone Wars arc goes from the end of EpII till Anakin's Knighting. Mwahaha, we have _plans_ for the Clone Wars. Things from Anakin swimming in ice, explosions on gaseous planets, many a scene with Padme, befuddling Mace, younglings hanging off of Obi-Wan, and bonds deepening.

We'll be taking one month off from posting for this story. Just some time to go through the Clone Wars arc, reread now that we've had some time from it to catch any small mistakes, (maybe write that one drabble we need in that area that feels empty...), etc. And, somewhere in that month off, we'll post a preview of the story we're currently working on.

Enjoy your brief reprieve and see you in a month!


	15. Where Meditation is Shared

**Where Meditation is Shared**

They made a _fine_ pair going down the halls of the Temple, Obi-Wan reflected. Anakin's arm was in a sling, the mechanical prosthetic difficult to work with because it was so new. It's brassy-gold glinted under the slowly setting afternoon sun. Obi-Wan, by contrast, was limping with his cane as damaged muscle slowly re-knit itself under a bacta patch. He also bore an arm in a sling, another bacta patch helping to heal damage.

It had been two days since Geonosis. The whole Temple seemed weighed down by grief and sorrow at the loss of so many Jedi. One hundred and seventy-nine Jedi gone. And if the grief of it wasn't enough, now war was looming over them. Not just a petty war between a few planets, but a war that would likely span the entire galaxy. Finding anyone in the Temple who could still smile seemed an impossibility.

This was why Obi-Wan was walking down the halls, ignoring how pitiable the pair of them looked. He noticed that several fellow Jedi, those who had not been in the battle, would look at him and his Padawan with such sympathy. That was fine, but not exactly desired at the moment.

Obi-Wan had two priorities right now. One of them was helping Anakin adjust to using the new hand that had been grafted on. That would take time and much work. And meditation, which Anakin would no doubt try and avoid as he always did.

The other priority, the one that he and Anakin were going to try and do now, was to find _some_ measure of peace. Obi-Wan was very strong in the Unifying Force, and while he did not have visions outright, he _did_ have a good sense of things in the future from time to time. And with war hanging around at every turn and no swift end in sight, he and his Padawan were going to need every scrap of peace they could grasp. So things were going to change a little bit.

Anakin had not asked where they were going when they'd left their appointments at the Halls of Healing, he was too busy in his own misery with his lost and new arm. So Obi-Wan was going to distract him. And he knew just the way to do it.

One turbo-lift ride down from the Temple Court later, Anakin was actually starting to look around their surroundings as Obi-Wan hobbled towards their destination.

"Master?" he asked.

Obi-Wan turned and offered a smile, ignoring how this walk from the Halls of Healing was starting to hurt his leg. Despite what the healers said, Obi-Wan would _not_ use a hoverchair like Master Yoda. He would make it on his own.

"Master?" Anakin asked again. "Why are we going to the Docking Complex? The healers haven't cleared us for travel."

He chuckled. "They probably will during tomorrow's checkup. Or at least you. After all, someone needs to escort Senator Amidala back to Naboo."

There was a happy flicker along the bond, no doubt Anakin would enjoy seeing the Senator again.

"Yes, Master, but... why are we here?"

Obi-Wan paused, looking around for the Hanger Master and ignoring Anakin's question. Ahh, there she was. "Come, Padawan."

Anakin huffed in frustration. "Master, you're not answering my question."

"Ah, but I _am_, my impatient Padawan. I am."

Obi-Wan limped the way forward to the Hanger Master's office, a smile working under his beard. Anakin sent a strong pulse of irritation along the bond and Obi-Wan responded with a pulse of amusement.

"Master Fyurer," Obi-Wan greeted as he entered the more administrative office of the Hanger Master.

"Master... Kenobi, right?" she responded, standing up to her almost two meters of height.

"Yes," he replied.

"How may I help you?"

"A seat for starters," Anakin interrupted. "You really shouldn't be on that leg for so long, Master."

Obi-Wan frowned, but Fyurer chuckled warmly. "You have an attentive Padawan. Here," she gestured.

With a scowl more befitting his Padawan, Obi-Wan sat down in the offered chair, letting out a silent sigh of relief to be off of his leg.

"Now, what can I do?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "I believe it is more what my Padawan here can do for you."

Both his Padawan and Master Fyurer blinked.

"Excuse me?" they both asked.

"It's really quite simple," Obi-Wan explained, stretching out his bad leg. "Anakin here is very adept at all things mechanical. Proficiency doesn't even begin to cover his skill with ships of any sort. And with war upon us, I'd imagine there will be quite a few ships that will come in with more damage than you might be prepared to handle."

Sitting back, he took a moment for the two to stare at him, then each other. Already, he could feel Anakin's excitement growing as Master Fyurer lay measuring eyes on his Padawan.

"So you're a mechanic?" she asked, a browridge rising.

"And a pilot," Obi-Wan added. "If it flies, he'll drive it. And if it doesn't, he'll make it fly."

Curiosity glittered in her eyes. "Interesting, Master Kenobi. Very interesting."

"Now my Padawan and I will, of course, go on missions. Frequently, no doubt. But as he finds ships and flying and tinkering very relaxing, I'd imagine he might be of use to you during our down time."

"Indeed he would, if he's as good as you say."

"I'm better," Anakin smirked. He went to cross his arms, but the fingers of his mechanical arm didn't work right, and ended up poking instead. The smirk dropped off of Anakin's face. "Master, I can't. This new arm..." he trailed off, his excitement and eagerness fading once more into the moroseness that was permeating the entire Temple.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, his eyes intent on his Padawan. "Tell me, Anakin, do you need your hand to speak?"

His Padawan blinked. "Huh? Master-"

"Do you need your hand to see?"

"I don't-"

"To listen? To feel?"

Anakin looked confused, but Fyurer smiled in understanding.

"Just because you can't do it yourself, Padawan," she said, a hand resting on his shoulder, "doesn't mean you can't help. You can instruct my mechanics. You can see the wiring, you can hear the engines, and you can feel the machine. Your expertise will be well used."

Anakin looked between the both of them, a large smile blossoming on his face.

"You'll get the usage of that prosthetic down," Obi-Wan added. "It may take some time, but you'll be able to use it like you would a hand of flesh and blood."

"Now come," Fyurer started to pull Anakin out the door. "I want to see just _how_ good you are versus what you and your master claim."

"Is that a challenge?" Anakin asked as they turned the corner.

Obi-Wan sat back with a contented sigh. With any luck, the Docking Complex would become a nice refuge for Anakin during any down time they could snatch during this war. A place for him to find balance. Really, he should have brought Anakin to one of the Temple Hangers years ago, but there was always something else to do. Now, Obi-Wan took the time for it; because Anakin would likely need it.

Leaning back, Obi-Wan rested his head back and let out a long breath. With Anakin "meditating" with mechanics, he could do what _he_ needed to restore balance, and meditate in a more traditional manner. There was a lot of sorrow at the loss of so many Jedi that needed to be released. And the Force was always so calming and reassuring.

It didn't take long to once more touch the gentle waves of the Force and sink into their depths. The lingering pain in his leg was no longer there, nor the stiffness of his arm. It was just that which connected all things together.

Hmmm, connections.

Meditation was always a very personal thing for a Jedi. Each being had preferred meditations and would greet and interact with the Force in a different way unique to each person. Every youngling learned how to meditate on their own. A Master could guide a Padawan if they were struggling or through a more difficult meditation, but students were always encouraged to reach for the Force on their own, since a Master might not always be there. Masters could meditate together, but only when there was a common purpose or bit of knowledge sought.

This made Obi-Wan wonder why Jedi didn't share meditation just for the sake of meditating together. He and Anakin had meditating together several times over the years, but the instances were vastly spread out and usually when a break was needed from something more stressful. Obi-Wan always felt a bit closer to his Padawan after such meditations, and a fair bit better.

As he drifted through the waves of the Force, Obi-Wan wondered if, with the war that was now upon them the two of them should meditate together more often. Especially when the peaceful feeling of drifting was so welcome after the sorrow of Geonosis.

So with but a thought, he sent this peaceful feeling along the bond to Anakin.

Through the Force, he felt Anakin's surprise as Obi-Wan's peaceful offer sank into Anakin's being, soothing things his Padawan wasn't even aware were there. Anakin sent his thanks and Obi-Wan sent a grin.

That evening, Obi-Wan asked what Anakin had thought of meditating together. And not just sitting down and each slipping into meditation, but joining together in the Force as they had done over the years, only with more regularity that previously.

Anakin had hesitated. But said that he'd give it a try.

That first evening hadn't quite gone the way that Obi-Wan wanted it. Anakin was used to Obi-Wan guiding him deeper into such meditations together, but Obi-Wan didn't want to be the teacher for this. He just wanted them to be equals in this one type of meditation. This wasn't about him teaching, it was just enjoying his Padawan's bright presence in the Force.

They stumbled, resisting the usual places of Teacher and Student to try and find the way as Friends. Family.

But once they reached the deeper levels of the Force together, it felt so much more... There wasn't quite the word for it. Powerful? Peaceful? Strong? Connected? Whatever the word was, it was beautiful. Their bond was alive with pulses of awe and wonder and sharing. Drifting in the deep currents of the Force, it was Anakin who found, and then dragged Obi-Wan to a place that reminded him of the color meditation that Qui-Gon had once shown him and he had shared with Anakin. Only instead of every being shining with a color, they produced their own music. From cantina music to symphonies to ballads to folk songs, every being produced a song unique to themselves until all the music sang in one joyous orchestral of the Force.

Qui-Gon would have loved it and Obi-Wan wished he were there to see it. And suddenly Anakin was surrounding him in the Force as the old ache for his master came forward.

Who would have thought that you could hug someone in the Force?

It was such an amazing feeling, that Obi-Wan tried to reciprocate it, hugging Anakin's presence. He wasn't sure if it worked the same way, but Anakin certainly sent his appreciation.

When they came out of the shared meditation, stumbling again up through the layers and currents of the Force, they were both surprised to find that it was almost morning.

"Well that was certainly different," Obi-Wan stated.

"I'll say." Anakin stretched. "Tea and then our next check up with the healers?"

The healers did indeed clear Anakin for travel, as Obi-Wan had predicted. So, after a day of Obi-Wan helping Anakin get a better grasp of using his new hand, that evening, after dinner, they sat down to try and share a meditation again. They still tripped as they sank through the layers, but not as badly as they had previously. Once more, the wonders of the Force flowed around them as it hadn't ever before. And once more, their awe of the Force pulsed between them rapidly in their bond, along with curiosity, wonder, and peace.

This time, it was Obi-Wan who dragged Anakin to something interesting, and the two watched as the sorrow and grief of the Jedi released into the Force swirled and twisted and spread out not as loss, but as the joy of life, for as every being died, a new one was born. The darkness of sadness and loss shifted, lightening, brightening, to the pure glow of happiness.

It was... amazing to watch. Jedi were taught to release their feelings to the Force, that it would help. But to actually _see_ how the Force respectfully accepted the feelings offered, held and molded those feelings into something else was just... inspiring in a way.

The two stumbled up out of meditation again, grateful to find not _quite_ so much time had passed. They smiled at each other, not really feeling the need to speak after sharing so much in their mediation, and went to bed.

The third time they shared a meditation was after Anakin came back from Naboo.

This meditation went a bit differently. They sank into the Force with far greater ease together, and once deep within the currents, there was no denying the happiness and joy that didn't just bubble, but _overflowed_ from Anakin. Granted, Obi-Wan had felt his Padawan's happiness almost from the moment Anakin entered the Temple, but this was... it was like he was feeling it as well.

The tranquility of loving someone and knowing they loved you back seemed to soothe old aches that Qui-Gon's death had left behind, even a decade later. Almost without his realizing it, Obi-Wan's love for Anakin, his brother in all but blood and name, was surrounding him and Anakin. And then Anakin's love for Obi-Wan was reciprocated, his love of a brother-turned-father. So much love was around them, they both thought that their hearts might just burst from the feeling of all of it. They both watched as the love swirled, sending playful, happy waves out further into the Force, and as other Jedi touched the Force, it was love that gave the Jedi their peace and tranquility.

It reminded Obi-Wan of Qui-Gon, and this time without the old ache of loss, but with the joy of knowing his master and how his old master would see this. For Anakin, it reminded him of his mother and how she always said that hugs could save the galaxy. There was the sharp sting of her loss and Obi-Wan hugged him. Through the bond, Anakin could tell that Obi-Wan thought that he was merely missing his mother, that he still didn't know that Shmi was dead.

Anakin knew he should tell Obi-Wan, but he just didn't want to deal with it at the moment. These mediations were to find peace, not relive sorrow, so he shifted his thoughts back to Padme and watched as love rippled out into the Force.

The two continued to drift in the currents of the Force, sharing and exploring in ways that no Jedi had ever done before. And when they came out of meditation, Anakin was still grinning like an idiot with unsuppressed joy and Obi-Wan now had a smile to match.

They both agreed that they would continue to meditate together. And as war raged around them, after battles, it became a routine that was necessary to maintain any sort of balance in the chaos around them.

**

* * *

Author's Note:** Yeah, Hanger Master is a completely made up term. As such, Fyurer is a made up character (Star Wars needs more female Jedi). If they could have Council Masters, Gatemasters, etc, we kinda figured that there would be a Hanger Master for each of the three hangers in the Temple. (Yes, three. Thank you wookiepedia, we love you very much.) As a whole, given how rich the Star Wars universe is, we didn't really want to go making up jobs and characters, but if you can't find it, what can you do?

*sigh* This drabble... Okay, history lesson. The above concept, that right after Geonosis, Obi-Wan would drag Anakin, not to the hanger master, but to a random junk shop on Coruscant to help Anakin relax and together they'd start meditating, was the original impetus of this story. Originally, while Anakin tinkered on something or other at the junkshop (which was in danger of closing and Anakin's random, sporadic help would save the day for them), Obi-Wan would be meditating back in the temple and somewhere along the way, they'd feel a connection. The drabbles for the Clone Wars arc was meant to have several with Anakin in the junkshop for some reason or another as Obi-Wan and Anakin got closer so as to avoid the horror known as Mustafar.

The above is about all that's left of that concept. We won't be visiting the Hanger Master Fyurer again and Anakin and Obi-Wan will be spending many of the drabbles out on the front lines or just at their rooms at the Temple and one other place we won't disclose. We still needed Obi-Wan and Anakin to start meditating together, because it will lead to things important later.

George Lucas, in one of the extras/commentaries of the movies said that being a director, you have to love what you do, but you also have to be willing to kill what you love. As in you have to love the story you're telling, but you also have to be willing to remove something you love for the greater story you're presenting. A story evolves. This story has evolved a great deal, starting with backtracking to look at the early years between Anakin and Obi-Wan, to a grand finale that is still a long ways off. (Mwahahahaha) Here is just a simple nod to what it once was that feels vaguely out of place for everything once all together.


	16. Where Joy is Shared

**Where Joy is Shared**

Obi-Wan relished his cup of tea. It was _just_ what he needed. Another satisfying sip and he hobbled over to his chair in the common room of his apartment. Hobbled. He allowed himself a moment of irritation and released it to the Force. It had been one week since Geonosis. One week since a galaxy-wide war had started. One week since Count Dooku, now Darth Tyranus, had cut of Anakin's arm.

It was why the tea was so necessary. It was a brief respite of peace in what was likely to become a very trying time. So Obi-Wan took what he could. A good cup of tea to warm both hands and the knowledge that his Padawan was due back from escorting Senator Amidala home. A quiet dinner perhaps, then meditation and mourn the loss of so many Jedi. The next day would be more physical therapy for the both of them. Obi-Wan hoped to be cleared of using a cane so that he could get his leg and arm back into shape.

It would not take long, a week at most, since he hadn't been inactive for an extended period of time. It was Anakin that worried him. For though his Padawan had an uncanny instinct for mechanics, Anakin still struggled with his prosthetic arm. That was what Obi-Wan wanted to focus on. Who knew when they'd be called into battle? He wanted his Padawan prepared so that he wouldn't be so injured again.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh and brought his bad leg up to the cushion Anakin had placed on their low table. He may dislike needing a Healer's care, and he'd push himself more than they would like, but Obi-Wan knew to heed their advice. So he rested when he'd rather work. But while his leg was taking longer to heal, Obi-Wan felt his arm was doing much better. Reaching through the Force he plucked some weights out of a closet and set about rebuilding some of the strength he'd lost from his arm.

After a few repetitions, Obi-Wan paused as he felt a bubbling surge of joy pulse through him, bringing a large smile to his face. He blinked, for that wasn't his joy that he was feeling, but Anakin's. Clearly his Padawan had returned to the Temple. The question was what had his Padawan walking on air?

Obi-Wan could feel Anakin approaching, every aspect of his signature glowing brightly and radiating happiness. As much as Obi-Wan was glad that Anakin had found something good, he did hope that his Padawan wasn't broadcasting so that every Jedi in the Temple could feel it.

Another sip of tea after he put his weights down and Obi-Wan turned to the door as Anakin entered. His Padawan looked every bit like the calm Jedi he was supposed to and Obi-Wan couldn't see any of the unbridled glee he was feeling along the bond. Good. Obi-Wan didn't want any Knight or Master to scold his Padawan on feeling so happy.

"Welcome home," he greeted, shifting to stand.

Now that Anakin was back in their quarters, his calm façade disappeared in an instant as a massive smile split his face, his eyes lit up and he practically pranced over to Obi-Wan and hugged him to the point of lifting him. Anakin couldn't even form words as he started laughing and giggling in joy and happiness and glee. It was infectious and Obi-Wan couldn't help the light laugh that escaped him as he awkwardly hugged his Padawan back.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan chuckled. "Put me down!"

"Of course, Master," Anakin laughed, finally forming coherent words through his joy. Obi-Wan was gently released from the fierce hug.

"Padawan, what's gotten into you?" Obi-Wan asked around another laugh while Anakin just about floated to their kitchen.

"We're celebrating, Master Obi-Wan. We are celebrating."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but chuckle at Anakin's enthusiasm as the young man pulled out plates and utensils and a takeout container from Dex's, no doubt gotten on the way here.

"And what, my joyous Padawan, is the occasion?"

Anakin turned, all smiles and happiness. "She asked me to _marry_ her! I said yes! We're married, Obi-Wan. We're married!"

Obi-Wan felt his jaw drop as his Padawan's news washed over him.

...

... ...

Anakin would be the death of him. Death by mortification. Round three. As if explaining the caution a Jedi needed with love wasn't bad enough, and giving Anakin "The Talk" a week later wasn't enough, now his Padawan dropped the bombshell that he was actually _married._ Qui-Gon _must_ be laughing at him.

Obi-Wan sat heavily into his chair at the table in shock. Anakin's joy was still trying to be infectious, but couldn't quite pierce the numbness. Obi-Wan would need to handle this _very_ carefully. Thankfully, after ten years with him, he had a basic procedure for approach.

Step One: Don't rain on the parade.

"Congratulations, Anakin," he said quietly. A small gesture and his tea floated to him from the common room. "The two of you did work well together on Geonosis."

Anakin's smile somehow brightened even further. "Thank you, Master!" he said cheerfully, cutting thick slices of the cake pastry.

Step Two: Get _all_ possible information.

"... So, did it work like those holomovies? Down on one knee and all that?"

"Not at all!" Anakin continued to glow and happily shared the story. Anakin's tale began, not with the transport back to Naboo, but with the time he and the Senator had spent in the Lake Country of Naboo. Apparently, the two (Padme) had decided not to pursue a relationship as it would be far too complicated, being Jedi and Senator. ("I was actually happy with that, Master. She wasn't throwing me out of her life. I made her happy and that made me happy. Ours just isn't an easy situation.") Anakin had mourned the loss of his chance to marry Padme, but by still being her friend, he was all right. Then came the death of Anakin's mother and the horrible battle on Geonosis. And apparently, somewhere during that battle, Padme had admitted her love for him. ("She _loves_ me, Master. I didn't think after that conversation in Lake Country it was possible. But she _loves_ me. And I love her!")

Obi-Wan decided Anakin wasn't the only one who needed a lecture on recklessness. By then, he'd known that the young Senator had loved his Padawan when she had tried to bring down the Halls of Healing to find out if Anakin was alright after their battle with Dooku. He had been the only one who could calm her and get her turbulent feelings away from sensitive patients.

Anakin continued his story with his escorting her back to Lake Country. Apparently, during the ride, Padme had done a lot of talking about how she had never allowed herself anything, denied herself everything so that she could serve her people. How, after meeting and spending time with Obi-Wan's passionate, reckless Padawan, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could allow herself just one thing. So Padme had proposed. ("She chose _me_, Master. I can't believe it! If she wanted something for herself, she could have chosen _anything_. Any_one_. But she chose _me_." And there was no denying the awe in Anakin's voice.) Anakin had pelted her with questions, making sure that this was what _she_ wanted, that he hadn't pressured her in anyway, that this would make her happy, before he joyously said yes.

_Well_, Obi-Wan thought to himself, _at least he remembered _some_ of what I've told him._

Once on Naboo and in Lake Country, they'd had a quiet little ceremony with Threepio and Artoo as witnesses, even if they had used false names. ("You should have _seen_ her in her wedding dress. She was _so_ beautiful.") Of course, Anakin had trailed off after that, blushing furiously and with a goofy grin on his face. Obi-wan was grateful for this as he didn't particularly care to hear how the wedding night went.

Step Three: Be supportive.

Obi-Wan got up from his seat, limped over to his Padawan, and hugged him. Anakin was still a tiny sun of joy and happiness as he hugged his master back fiercely.

"She's happy, Master. I make her happy. Just the fact that I made her happy by marrying her... It makes me want to giggle like a fool."

Obi-Wan rubbed Anakin's back as his Padawan's joyous awe over what had happened continued to fill the room. Since Obi-Wan's tea had gone cold while Anakin told his story, he had his Padawan brew a fresh batch.

The two settled onto the couch in the common room with fresh drinks and Obi-Wan brought up his bad leg, laying the foot on his Padawan's lap since there was no other room for it. Anakin scowled, though the look was ruined by the sappy grin on his face.

Obi-Wan took a sip of his fresh cup of tea and let out a small happy sigh. Anakin's cooking skills were severely lacking but he did know how to make a _good_ cup of tea.

Step Four: Break the ice of the problem. Gently.

"It's good to see you so happy, Anakin," Obi-Wan said with a grin. "I'd imagine any Jedi who saw you on your way here is probably wondering why they're smiling so much their cheeks hurt."

Anakin looked slightly abashed. "Sorry, Master. I didn't mean to project so much..."

Obi-Wan brushed it aside. "A little joy after the loss of so many Jedi is a good thing. If any Jedi figured out it was you who has everyone grinning like an idiot, they'd probably thank you."

His Padawan sobered at the mention of the loss, but gave a smaller, more contained grin at Obi-Wan's compliment.

"As much as I'm glad that you're glowing with joy," Obi-Wan continued, maintaining a lighthearted tone, "I do wish you and Senator Amidala had waited a bit, my compassionate, loving, so-very-reckless Padawan."

Anakin frowned, sensing the small criticism, despite Obi-Wan's light voice. "But Master, you said if it made her happy..."

"I have no doubt of your dedication to her happiness," He interrupted. "Make no mistake on that. You love her, and from what I've seen and heard from you, you will make her happiness one of your highest priorities."

Anakin grinned, then frowned. "Then I don't understand what you mean, Master."

"My concern, Anakin, is _your_ happiness." Obi-Wan nudged him with his bad leg. "I am a worrier, Anakin. I see potential situations that I'm not sure you've thought of and while they may never happen, they _could_ and I don't want you hurt because of them."

Anakin scowled, his face confused. "What situations, Master? As long as she's happy, that will be enough."

Obi-Wan let out along sigh, trying to order his thoughts. "You realize that we are currently in a war."

"Of _course_, Master."

"Of course. Tell me, if you die will Padme be happy?"

Anakin rolled his eyes. "I already talked about this with her. She understood. She knows that I'm a Jedi and can be killed on any mission. She was _there_ on Geonosis." Anakin looked down at his cup of caf. "I think that's part of the reason she proposed. She understands how short life is."

Obi-Wan nodded, glad that his Padawan had at least thought about this _some_what.

"And if she were to die?"

"Don't say that, Master!"

"So she can be prepared for your death, but not you for hers?"

"She's a Senator, not a warrior..."

"Imagine one of these Separatists planting a bomb in the Senate building. It would disrupt our infrastructure, demoralize our supporters, weaken our forces..."

"Alright! Alright!" Anakin looked down. "I get it."

Obi-Wan sighed. He didn't want to hurt Anakin like this. Not at all. But this was better than having him blindsided, right? Make him think so he could be ready.

"Ana-"

"I _have_ thought about that over the years," Anakin said quietly. "You said the death of a loved one can push a Jedi to the Dark Side. I love Padme. With every fiber of my being. And I know there was always a chance that she'd die before me. I can't say I'll ever be ready. Or prepared for that. I know I'd need a lot of time to put myself back together after she died, like you did with Qui-Gon. I _know_ I won't handle her death well. But I _have_ thought about it. I'll do the best that I can. I'll seek justice, not revenge, or I'll leave the task to someone else."

Obi-Wan didn't even try to hold back his pride in Anakin. His Padawan felt it over the bond and smiled at him.

But Obi-Wan wasn't done yet. "And if, over the years, despite all your best efforts, she falls in love with someone else?"

Anakin scowled. Again. "Focus on the here and now. She _loves_ me, Master. She won't betray me like that."

"I doubt she would as well," Obi-Wan agreed. What Padme had for Anakin, it was just as strong and deep as what Anakin felt for her. Obi-Wan could see no way that either would betray the other. These weren't feelings that would fade with time, he could sense that clearly. It was amazing how those feelings had grown in her in such a short time. "But as much as the two of you love each other deeply, 'always in motion, the future is.' You can't assume she'll betray you, but you can't assume you'll always be enough. And while we can't prepare for everything, being ready for possibilities gives you more options."

The scowled deepened. "I _know_, Master. I've been your Padawan for years now. Plan for everything and expect something to still go wrong."

"And you hold true to this _and_ living in the here and now on any mission or in any battle. But in everyday life?" Obi-Wan sighed. "You still tend to leap in without looking. I don't want you hurt, Anakin, if you leapt into this."

Anakin sighed, but did not argue. Obi-Wan felt along the bond, trying to gauge what was going on in his Padawan's mind. Anakin was _definitely_ not happy with how this conversation was going, but underneath was a desperate need to prove to Obi-Wan that he _was_ ready. That he _could_ handle it. So Anakin held onto calm and focused on his answers. He didn't answer blindly. He considered Obi-Wan's questions, thought about his responses, and articulated them as clearly as he could.

This not only made Obi-Wan proud all over again, it showed a level of maturity that Anakin had only shown in bursts over the years. His Padawan was finally growing up, and this warmed Obi-Wan's heart immensely.

"It would hurt, Master," Anakin said quietly, answering the question. "I'd be angry. Despite my best efforts I know in bad situations I react with anger and fear."

"You'd be right to be angry. That's not the question." Obi-Wan nudged him again with his foot. "Could you let her go if it made her happy? You are as ready as you can be to let Padme go if she were to die. But if she wishes to be elsewhere to be happy? Can you do what a Jedi must and let go?"

Anakin let out a soft growl before leaning back and slipping into meditation to seek the answer. They simply sat there for a time, Obi-Wan' sipping his tea. He knew Anakin tended to hold on to things. Over the years, he'd seen time and time again that Anakin's attachments gave him great strength, but he struggled with letting go when it was necessary. Anakin's feelings gave him great power, but he held onto them, long after they were no longer necessary. It was the most difficult part of Anakin's training. It was what Obi-Wan had been working on with Anakin for years and still his Padawan struggled.

"I'd... I'd fight for her, Master." Anakin said quietly. "I wouldn't give her up without a fight. But... if she still... I..." Anakin heaved a great sigh. "I'd... want her to be happy."

Obi-Wan gazed at his Padawan. "As I said, Anakin," he stated quietly, "I doubt this will happen. You doubt it would as well, and I think that it is the Force guiding us both in that belief. I don't ask these questions to spoil such a happy moment." Obi-Wan searched for the words. "I worry about you, Anakin. You have talents and abilities that far outshine my own. But the one thing you struggle with and have not mastered, is your self. You said once that I was like a father to you. Well you are like a brother to me. And I wouldn't be much of a brother if I didn't look out for you."

Anakin snapped his head up to face his master, eyes wide in shock. Slowly, a large smile appeared and the overwhelming joy that had diminished during the conversation surged forward again, even brighter than before.

"Master. I'm happy. Padme is happy. We will be happy. I just _know_ it. I can't explain why I know it, but I do. Just like I knew I'd marry Padme when I first saw her."

Obi-Wan nodded and smiled. "Then all I can ask is that you don't sacrifice your happiness for hers, because that _will_ make her unhappy. She's a born politician. Compromise should come naturally."

Anakin chuckled softly. "So you approve, my master?"

"Yes. Not of the timing. I think after the war would have been better and spared both of you of the complications you'll be facing, but yes. I approve of anything that has you glowing so brightly it's hard to see."

"Master!" They laughed together.

It was good to feel so happy.

"Now, my married and reckless Padawan, I have one more question."

Anakin groaned.

"It is my personal belief that at least one member of the Council should know about this. But this is your life, thus, it is your decision."

"They can't know yet," Anakin replied without an ounce of hesitation. "They don't trust me. They'll _never_ respect me until I've earned it in their eyes and if they knew about this, any chance I have might as well have been sent to Wild Space."

"That's why I'm not saying the whole Council. Just one of them. Master Yoda, perhaps?"

"No, Master." Anakin gave a sad smile. "I understand where you're coming from, but they'll have to _earn_ the right to know this, just like I have to still _earn_ their trust and respect."

Obi-Wan nodded, not liking Anakin's decision, but understanding it. He also felt a warm glow that his Padawan had felt that Obi-wan _had_ earned the right to know this secret.

"Very well, I shall bow to your wishes." Obi-Wan grinned, shifting his bad leg off of Anakin's lap. "Another pastry in celebration?"

Anakin smiled as he got up to go to the kitchen.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: And now you see how the time we spent in earlier small drabbles that seemed almost inconsequential have led to quite the deviation from canon. If it wasn't for the previous fourteen chapters spent in Anakin's younger years, of building trust in Obi-Wan, discussing the possibility of marriage, this chapter wouldn't have been possible. Much of EU canon is still in tact, from the Jud Watson books to all of Attack of the Clones. But suddenly, things are starting to change. And we keep veering away from canon, though much of the Clone Wars will still be the same. (If the occasional slip of order is any indication. ^_^)

As an aside, it's nice to finally be able to post. For some reason, wasn't allowing us to edit the story to post. But many thanks to MobiObi for telling us the trick! If any of you are trying to edit a story and getting an error that requires you to email support, check the actual address in the address bar and change the ?property to ?content and it should work. This makes live easier.

As another aside, we can't tell if it's or our gmail account, but notifications from has been getting to us almost two days late. Therefore, since we do try to reply to everyone who is kind enough to give reviews, we may end up late on responding. We apologize in advance.

Next week: War is gruesome and visions are worse.


	17. Where It's War

**Where It's War**

War was glorious.

That's what Obi-Wan thought when he was a youngling. The good and the bad, the Jedi and the Sith, the light and the dark, would clash in an adrenaline-filled rush. Space would light up with explosions as bright as stars as fighters would maneuver in a three hundred sixty degree dogfight. Lightsaber against lightsaber would crash against each other, sparks flying everywhere, acrobatic Form IV flips, Force-assisted pushes and leaps, a Jedi against an army - and the Jedi would always win.

He remembered the games he would play with Garen and Bant and Reeft; imagining that one was so-and-so famous Jedi Master, the other was such-and-such nefarious evildoer. Practice wands would bang against each other until the winner won the battle and subsequently win the war. The winner would be carried in the Force by the others, a pretend parade of course, in keeping with the victory. And when they had their fill of war and victory they would go hunting for snacks, giggling and laughing and reliving their adventures orally.

Over time, his naivete was slowly worn down. During his apprenticeship with Qui-Gon, he had been to many a planet on the brink of war. His enthusiasm was quickly evaporated as he learned - or perhaps relearned - that battle often meant death. As a youngling it was all too abstract - numbers charted on two columns. It was Medila/Daan that showed him in eloquent tragedy that attached to the numbers were names; attached to those names were beings; and attached to those beings were lives, lives with hopes and dreams and family and desperate wishes that the fighting would stop. The perception of war - no, the perception of battle had changed after that.

It stopped being a game.

Obi-Wan had learned that battle was something one approached with dread. One avoided it at all costs because it just wasn't worth the price. The ultimate proof of this had been on the planet of Naboo. It had taken Padme months to assess the totals in damages, but the highest price paid had been in life; and to Obi-Wan the most precious of lives: Qui-Gon Jinn. It was why he always pushed for negotiation and mediation - he knew better than anyone what battle actually meant.

Or so he thought.

The rain had soaked him through as soon as he had stepped outside. It pelted him, hundreds of tiny assaults upon his person, pounding into his hair and face and clothes, forming squads and companies and legions and armies that marched down his face in miniature rivers. Clones were doing things behind him, communication chatter in their uniform helmets that was drowned out by the rain and the ringing in his ears.

Now, _now_, after a scant two months, Obi-Wan felt he new knew what war was.

It was horror.

It was spending days formulating a plan because your dear friend Quinlan Vos was able to give you intelligence of the Separatists assault on Kamino, the planet being the source of the clone army now under your command. It was informing your clones of the assault and being disturbed that none of them, _none_ of them, expressed even the faintest hint of concern or worry for their home planet. It was realizing those days planning being wasted because nothing went according to plan. It was your Padawan flying circles around everyone and howling in adrenaline so loud across the commlink you almost didn't notice the _three_ bogeys on your tail. It was a disorienting assault on your senses: vertigo from all the barrel rolls and banks and dives to either shake off tails or line one up in your sights to fire, explosion after explosion shaking your still unfamiliar fighter and slowly reducing the function of your ears, smoke filling your nostrils and lungs and terrifying you that you had taken a hit only to realize it was the fighter _next_ to you that had blown up to little pieces and was falling through the atmosphere towards the violent seas. It was realizing it was all for naught as the Separatist commander slips through the entire conglomerate of chaos and manages to _land_ on Tipoca City, the dull empty thud in your chest as the knowledge of a few well places explosives will sink the entire city and the war will be over because those abstract numbers will come back to haunt you. It was the overpowering relief that stasis clones had been activated and that, ultimately, the battle had been won.

Obi-Wan remembered the youngling games, the victory parades with Bant and Garen and Reeft. Victory... there was no elation with it now. There was no _time_ for it. After landing there were a hundred things to do: securing defenses with Master Shaak Ti, assessing how many clones were lost - offering condolences to clones that expressed they didn't need it, and of course the math of running the army.

It was one thing his history classes never taught him - the mechanics of keeping the war machine running. There was travel time between one fight and the next, ordering food and finding time to distribute it and _eat_ it, keeping weapons fully stocked and the costs of repairing them. The math of it was actually frightening. A B1 Battle Droid was manufactured in just under a day; the higher functioning commander droids in a little over a week. A clone needed ten years. Life was precious to begin with, but every life counted against an army that could replenish its losses or even double it in round about two days was horrifying.

Thinking like that made Obi-Wan sick to his stomach, and failing the Room of a Thousand Fountains, he'd retreated outside for the rain.

It hadn't helped.

There was no reprieve from war. It was moving from one crisis to the next. It was spending all waking moments planning, maintaining, organizing, redirecting, deploying, or worst of all fighting. Even sleep offered no reprieve, Obi-Wan was allowed precious little of it for all the work he had to do, and when he did he dreamt of duties he did awake.

He had been fighting for barely six weeks.

Already he was sick of it.

Someone stood at his shoulder, joining him in his misery perhaps, because Obi-Wan could feel worry and concern waffing off the other body in quiet waves.

"You look as bad as I feel, Master," Anakin said. His tone was light but his countenance spoke otherwise. He was easy to read in some ways. He felt things so deeply and powerfully that even through shielding they would bleed through. It was the source of the feelings that were always hard to determine - Anakin was mercurial if nothing else, swinging from one extreme to the next at something as innocuous as a word or look.

Obi-Wan took a breath. "Your thoughts betray you," he said, turning away from the rain to face his tall Padawan. "You're troubled."

Anakin pouted as if angry that he'd been caught; but the look disappeared with a nervous glance to his boots and a dip of his head. "Perhaps a little," he admitted quietly under the sound of the rain.

Nodding, Obi-Wan took a drenched hand and patted Anakin's arm - he was too tall now to pat his shoulder. "Then let us see what we can do to alleviate it."

They walked across the platform and back inside.

The inner walls of the city were pristine white and curved. Clones and Kaminoans bustled back and forth, assessing damage and totals and repairs so that they could get back to work - the _real_ work - of growing an army. The business seemed to still Anakin's tongue; he glanced around several times before lowering his head, trying to shut out the intruders to a private conversation.

It was one of the many "similar differences" between them, as Obi-Wan liked to call them. The Jedi Knight was very reserved of himself, putting up the most polite and closed off of faces to everyone. But when he gave of himself, he gave everything that he was - often to the point of self-negligence, as Bant and others would often point out. There were few he let in. Anakin by contrast let everyone in. He let the galaxy know what he was feeling because he wore his emotions on his sleeve and saw no reason at all that such a thing was at the very least imprudent. Having said that, however, there was always one tiny corner of himself that no one saw, even those he considered close. They were both private people but in different ways. When Obi-Wan had finally realized that he allowed the Padawan his private corner. It was never completely comfortable with him, his bond with Qui-Gon had always been completely open, but he remembered his master explaining that Dooku often kept parts of his mind to himself; and so the Jedi knew that bonds were as varied as the people that shared them.

The thought that Dooku fell to the dark side was firmly kept at bay.

The voluptuous Jedi Aayla Secura saw the two for them walking down the hall and slowed to greet them. Obi-Wan's hand had moved from Anakin's arm to his back, and the taut muscles could be felt even through the soaked robes. He decided to make the conversation quick.

"You are both excellent pilots," Aayla said by way of greeting. "You are already so familiar with your fighters."

"Yes, well," Obi-Wan said lightly, "hardly familiar enough that I can classify myself as comfortable."

Even in his anxiety Anakin understood a cue when he heard it. "I doubt that could _ever_ happen. Master," he added with fake respect.

The Twi'lek smiled warmly, understanding it was an in-joke. "Where are you going now?" she asked.

"Some place quiet to meditate," Obi-Wan said smoothly. "Especially after that particularly impertinent comment." He smiled.

"I understand," Aayla said warmly. "I am going to speak with Master Ti. I'll call you if we need you."

"Very good," Obi-Wan said, nudging his Padawan and their walk began again, leaving a trail of puddles behind them. When they arrived at their tiny quarters Obi-Wan immediately took off his cloak and robe, unbuckling his belt and laying them all on a sleep-cot. The boots came next and when he upturned them an impressive stream of water appeared. His frown produced a cursory chuckle from Anakin, but the privacy of their tiny room brought with it the return of his anxiety. He was pacing about the room.

Now out from the worst of the wetness, Obi-Wan ran a hand through his sopping hair, shaking it out slightly before planting his feet on the floor and waiting.

Passionate as Anakin was there were often times he felt things so deeply that his body could not contain the energy of it. Negative emotions were often subjected to pacing, his feet swinging him back and forth like a pendulum. Sometimes this was coupled with ranting or wild gesticulations; others, like now, were utterly silent. It was when he was silent that Obi-Wan would worry, because it meant that the articulate young man couldn't find the words to express his feelings. Obi-Wan's answer to this phenomenon was to plant his feet and wait. He became something of the tether to Anakin's pendulum, the center of rotation of the young man's period. Time made the pacing distance smaller and smaller, until at last Anakin, too, planted his feet and faced his master.

"Master," Anakin asked, his head down, as if afraid of Obi-Wan's reaction. "Have you... I never heard you mention... Master," he looked up, his eyes pleading, "Do you have dreams?"

Obi-Wan knew immediately - at least in part - what this was about.

"Did you have another dream of your mother?" he asked.

Anakin's entire face crumpled, and Obi-Wan felt a flare of pain along the bond. "Master... please. Just answer the question."

Obi-Wan took a moment to consider, eyeing his apprentice.

"Yes and no," he answered honestly.

"_Master..._" but the Jedi Knight held up a hand.

"Let me explain, Anakin," he said. When his Padawan stilled, he continued. "What you are asking isn't about dreams but about visions sent by the Unifying Force. I do not think there is a single Jedi - even those like Master Qui-Gon who are strongly aligned with the Living Force - who have not had a vision of some sort. Master Qui-Gon spoke of dreams. He took little stock in them but I've come to believe that they were visions. To answer your literal question: no, I do not have dreams like that. Perhaps because I am so aligned with the Unifying Force that the premonitions I receive come in a different form."

"And what form is that?" Anakin asked slowly, his mind assimilating the information.

Obi-Wan raised and eyebrow and offered a wry grin. "I'm certain you've picked up on - more than once - my references to 'bad feelings'."

Anakin snorted at first, but his eyes widened as he fully realized what Obi-Wan was saying. His mouth formed a small, "Oh."

As the silence of Anakin's thoughts filled the room, Obi-Wan tried to answer the mystery of what had caused the young man's anxiety. Apparently not his mother; he had not spoken of those dreams for some time. He'd assumed that the dreams were past but perhaps not. He quietly accessed the bond to glean a hint, but Anakin was such a jumbled array of feelings that he could only classify the state of mind as pain.

Wanting to help, Obi-Wan asked, "What did you see in your dream?"

The mercurial Padawan suddenly engulfed Obi-Wan in a sopping hug, his newly grafted arm clutching awkwardly to the Knight's damp clothes. Though several centimeters taller, Anakin tried to burrow his face into his master's collarbone as he did as a child, and Obi-Wan could feel the young man shudder in sobs.

Startled, Obi-Wan just stood there awkwardly. Slowly, he remembered the correct response for Anakin in these situations and he broke his arms free just enough to return the hug.

"Anakin," he said softly after a time. Over the years he had learned the hard way to wait it out; when Anakin's emotions overpowered him like this no amount of noise Obi-Wan made could break through. He was a storm, like the driving rain and low thunder outside. In some ways, Obi-Wan envied Anakin's ability to show so much emotion, to be free to smile or stare or frown at whatever caught his attention. But it was at times like this he wished above all else that Anakin could control himself, to let go of the emotion so that clarity could be retained so a solution could be found. "Anakin," he whispered again, pulling away slightly - just slightly, enough to see his flushed and tear-stained face. Any further would trigger the Padawan to cling to him, and Obi-Wan knew himself well enough to know that he would allow it instead of denounce it as attachment. Instead, he avoided the trigger, avoided the choice he knew was wrong for a Jedi but right for Anakin. He avoided it because he doesn't want to think the two were separate.

"Do you want to meditate?" he asked slowly. "It may help you calm down, and then we can talk." It was an avoidance of the issue, he had yet to learn what his Padawan dreamed, but he wanted to alleviate that horribly pained look of his Padawan's face.

Even that he knew was wrong, but he couldn't quite stop it.

Anakin nodded, his damp braid swinging slightly, and soon the two were kneeling together, closing their eyes and breathing.

They still stumbled, they'd only been meditating like this for two months, but they were learning, and in their need it was perhaps the quickest they'd managed to sink into the Force together. Obi-Wan took them through the color meditation, one of Anakin's favorites, and then through the recently discovered sound meditation that Anakin had found. The Force was warm, soothing, and Obi-Wan channeled the reassuring feelings through the bond to smooth his Padawan's wrinkled presence. He could sense Anakin trying to accept it, but the warm waves washed over him, unable to settle into him.

Obi-Wan sent a questioning pulse, wondering what more he could do.

Anakin's raw power in the Force was undeniable to anyone. His midi-chlorian count was light years above anyone else's, and he had a connection to the Force few could comprehend. Over and over Obi-Wan would watch his Padawan perform remarkable feats - impossible even for Jedi standards - because of the power swirling around him. His sheer creativity was a factor, too. Anakin was always determined to do things his own way and more often than naught that meant daring last minute exploits that would make even Qui-Gon Jinn sit up and take notice.

So it should not have come as a surprise that Anakin did the impossible.

Again.

Without any warning Obi-Wan was suddenly surrounded in darkness - in space, he realized slowly. The upper atmosphere of Kamino. The new delta fighters were everywhere, and he was in the cockpit of one. Everything was spinning left and right and up and down, he was nauseated even in meditation, and then of their own volition his senses became hyper aware of one red and white fighter - his own. And then it exploded from stray fire of one of the Separatist ships.

There was a rush of agony, of loss, of everything breaking around him, his world shattering. And it did, the vision splintering into pieces to reveal Anakin on his knees in front of a grave in a desert.

_I dreamed you died._

Anakin looked up from the grave, and there was a woman in his arms.

_It's happened before. I was too late last time..._

Obi-Wan suddenly understood exactly where he was and why Anakin had stopped dreaming of his mother.

"Oh, Anakin." His eyes snapped open and the jarring end of the meditation left him with a heavy surrealism. His head swam for a moment but he shook it off to grab his Padawan into a fierce hug. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so, so sorry."

Anakin leaned into the embrace, clutching once more at Obi-Wan's damp tunic. They would both need to change soon.

Obi-Wan didn't even know where to _start_. He had always wondered why Anakin had ended up on Tatooine, and when he asked during their too-brief recovery after their injuries the Padawan never gave a completely straight answer. Obi-Wan could only hope that he would talk when he was ready. Now he wished he had pressed, for he realized that for two months Anakin had been dealing with this alone.

There were also the visions and what Anakin had been hinting. Obi-Wan was suddenly rocked with the idea that Anakin might have the ability to have _true_ dreams, not just abstract jumbles of the future, not just snippets of dialogue or emotion, but an unabridged explanation of what was to happen. He had no idea how to deal with it, what to say to it, what to _think_ of it.

"Focus on the now," his master would say. Obi-Wan took a deep breath; he had to be strong for Anakin's sake.

"Tell me what happened," he said softly, pulling slightly away.

Anakin nodded, sniffling and rubbing his temples. The abrupt end of the meditation left them both with headaches; Obi-Wan still couldn't shake the surrealism that was surrounding him. There wasn't much to say, Anakin's dreams had been happening several times before they had even started protecting Senator Amidala from assassination attempts, but apparently the frequency and sense of urgency had increased during their time spent on Naboo. Padme was understanding and encouraging, and so they had set off to Tatooine to find Shmi Skywalker.

"Cliegg," Anakin said in broken tones, still overcome with tears, "He said she'd been gone for a month. Just about as long as I'd been dreaming..." Anakin had gone off to find her, following the bond he shared with her. And found her. Just in time for her to die in his arms.

"Anakin, I'm so sorry," Obi-Wan said. If he had realized... What would he have done? Dreams were dangerous for Jedi, a signpost or a metaphor - or worse - the impetus for the very dream to come true. What would he have told Anakin if he had known that it was a vision and not a dream?

His Padawan started rocking slightly, nervous energy again displaying itself. "It doesn't matter," he muttered without feeling. "She's dead, and I won't ever be able to fix it. I can't fix what I've done. I can't _fix it..._" He rubbed his arms, chilled in the wet clothes.

Obi-Wan took another breath. "We cannot change the past," he said slowly, "we can only focus on the present. We cannot spend our time on 'what ifs,' it will only hurt us in the end. You shouldn't blame yourself, it was the will of the Force."

"Will of the Force? _Will of the Force_?" Anakin was suddenly on his feet, and anger pulsed through the room, even through the surrealism. "So it was the _will of the Force_ that wanted her to _die_? That wanted her to die _in my arms_? That I was too late? _That I-_" And suddenly his words cut off, but Obi-Wan felt something along the bond, a picture that shook him deeply.

Bloody sand. Bloody bodies.

"Anakin," he said, fighting to keep the horror out of his voice. The surrealism, the half sense of meditation was gone, but he could not unsee that image. "What did you do?"

He saw the eyes widen, and suddenly he wasn't looking at his twenty year old Padawan, he was looking at his ten year old Padawan who had just been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"Nothing!" he shouted in instant denial.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan had to press, he had to confirm that what he just saw really was along the bond, really did happen and wasn't some surreal after-effect of coming out of meditation so fast; it was pure rationale, but Obi-Wan wanted to believe that rationale badly enough, wanted to _not_ believe what his mind his telling him, and he had to force the issue.

"It doesn't matter," Anakin said, spinning on his heel to put his back to his master. Now he was a twelve-year-old hiding from the punishment he knew he was about to get.

Obi-Wan climbed to his feet, to his full height. Even now, he was tempted to let the matter drop, to wait until Anakin was ready to talk, but if what he thought was true - and he was horrified to feel that it _was_ true - then he, they, had to deal with it _now_ rather than later.

"_Anakin, what did you do?_"

"They killed my mother! It was justice!"

Space above, Star's End, sweet _Force_ it was _true_.

"Don't look at me like that," Anakin growled, shaking a mechanical finger at Obi-Wan. His face was twisted, his handsome features looked alien, ugly. Dark. "Don't look at me like that! They killed my mother! They tortured her! Beat her! They were animals! Savages! They got what they deserved!"

"Do you believe that?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.

"Of course I do!"

"Do you really believe that?" he asked again.

"You weren't there! You didn't see her! You never had parents! _You don't understand!_"

Something sparked in Obi-Wan, something he thought had been buried for years, something he thought had been released to the Force, but suddenly he stepped forward, into Anakin's personal space. His face was utterly blank, but fire was in his eyes, bright enough that even Anakin, in the emotional storm he was unleashing, stilled at the gaze.

"No, of course I wouldn't understand," Obi-Wan said in perfectly light tones. It was almost conversational, but the biting undertone was too loud to ignore. "To spend years and years with someone, to have them teach you, and raise you, and do what's best for you. To watch them battle, to feel them battle, to race to catch up and save him. To watch the final blow, to watch him be impaled, watch him fall, watch him die. I certainly have never experienced anything like that. I certainly never struck out in anger afterward, wanting his killer to die as he was dying. Certainly didn't want the strength, the power, to pay him back for what he had done to me. Done to my _master_."

Obi-Wan watched the realization dawn on Anakin's face, his tight jaw slack, his eyes widen.

He wasn't done yet.

"Do _you_ understand?" he demanded. "Do _you_ understand what it feels to see that parental figure spend his last moments, his last words, speaking of _someone else_? Do _you_ understand how it feels to watch your Padawan make the same mistakes as you did, even after you showed him what it did to you? Do _you_ understand what it feels like to realize your Padawan doesn't even trust you enough to _tell you_?"

"Master... I..."

"_Do you ever look outside your own pain?_"

The final question was a whisper, but it might as well have been a punch to the gut for Anakin's flinch against it.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and released his anger to the Force. Space, he was tired. And cold. But mostly tired. He shivered, rubbing a hand against his beard and closing his eyes. He could feel the headache exploding. The hand moved to his forehead.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "I shouldn't have done that."

Still in shock, Anakin made an odd humming noise, shaking his head. What he was denying, Obi-Wan couldn't say. He started to remove the remove the rest of his damp clothing.

"Tomorrow I'll take you through the meditations to help you release those emotions. I know how darkness can stick and cling, and you've had months to let it fester inside you. We'll work on that. Hopefully once things have settled here we can go back to the Temple, and we'll look up information in the Archives on dreams and what Jedi in the past have experienced. In the meantime, if you _ever_ have a dream again I want you to tell me immediately; I don't care what time of night it is. Is that understood?"

Anakin made a noise.

"Anakin, I asked if that was understood."

"Ye-yes, Master," he whispered, utterly subdued. The energy had left him. He glanced up, nothing more than his eyes darting to his master and back. "What... what about the Council?"

"What about them?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Will... will you tell them?"

...

"Given my own history I'm in no place to judge you, Anakin," was all Obi-Wan allowed himself to say, because at that point he had no idea how to answer.

Except he did. He knew he wouldn't say a word. What he didn't know was how he could justify _why_ he wouldn't. That worried him.

It downright scared him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Thank you wookiepedia. ^_^ This is a real battle that took place over Kamino just weeks after the start of the Clone Wars. Anakin really did have a vision of his master dying. Of course, that's _all_ we know, is that Anakin had a vision. So we did some expounding on that and can only hope it lines up at least a little with the original source material. Oh, and can you tell? We wrote this drabble back when Yesac was putting up a certain scene in a Dooku-controlled Temple during _Finer Shades of Why_ (good story, go read!) and there was some Heavy Inspiration. We rather enjoyed the initial reflections on war from childhood to adulthood, it came out of nowhere and just flowed out so well. This chapter is rather a favorite of ours as a result.

Again, we start to have more noticeable deviations from canon. We haven't hit the sharp turns that come at the end of the fic by a long shot, but nowhere in canon did Obi-Wan ever know about the sand-slaughter (you could argue the marriage...). It's also worth noting that Anakin may not have out-and-out told him, but he shared enough of his problems that Obi-Wan could figure it out/see it (whistles innocently over their meditation together...). Could that be a hint of what's to come? (more innocent whistles)

Next chapter: Anakin freezes, whines, and complains.


	18. Where Ice is Cold

**Where Ice Is Cold**

Step. Duck. Spin. Parry. Twirl. Shift. Flip.

Obi-Wan was deep in the Force, letting it guide his every move. He had become quite the adept at Soresu, preferring the defensive style because he _never_ wanted to die in his Padawan's arms as Qui-Gon had in his. Though very modest, Obi-Wan knew he was good at it. He had confidence in his ability with a lightsaber.

But his prowess had been shattered when Dooku, his own master's master had trounced him so easily. Obi-Wan had worked hard since then. He still doubted he was a match for Dooku, but at least he'd last longer. Long enough for help to arrive. The Clone Wars seemed to add to his effort with his saber skills. After all, battles and skirmishes and fights kept him well in shape and honed his senses well beyond what he'd thought his limit was.

War had made him a better fighter. A more efficient killer.

Block. Twist. Dodge. Slide. Turn. Divert. Deflect.

Yet despite all that, despite long weeks of training, months on the front lines, hours upon hours sparring with Anakin and anyone available, Obi-Wan was struggling again. And this time, it wasn't against Dooku.

It was against a cybernetic monster named Grievous, programmed with Dooku's knowledge of the lightsaber.

Was it really a wonder that Obi-Wan was failing?

At least he wasn't alone. Fellow Knight Chokt picked up where Obi-Wan stumbled.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. A small break from the front lines for him and his Padawan. Or at least, the only type of break the Council could offer when overwhelmed with war and did not have enough Jedi.

Originally, they had been given a month off. Anakin had, naturally, been thrilled. It was greatly tempered, however, when Obi-Wan told Anakin he could only sneak out of the Temple twice a week to visit his wife, else others might get suspicious. (And how strange it was, for Obi-Wan to be discussing secrecy and sneaking out of the Temple with his headstrong Padawan...)

Anakin complied.

Unfortunately, it didn't last. A week into their month off the Council had apologetically called for them and sent them off to aide Knight Chokt, whose ship had malfunctioned and crashed on the snowy planet of Norscan.

Anakin had groaned quite pitiably across the bond when Obi-Wan accepted. He'd tried to assure his Padawan it was simply a pick-up on a remote planet, but Anakin could not be deterred from the disappointment at more time being snatched away from his wife. And, given how rarely they were home, Obi-Wan understood the sentiment.

Flip. Duck. Push. Divert. Distract. Parry. Twist.

Knight Chokt apparently found a Separatist base in the snow and communication had been cut off just as the chilling view of Grievous entering the holo drew a lightsaber.

So Obi-Wan and Anakin had realized that they were landing into a nightmare. Communications were already being jammed and instead of picking up a fellow Jedi, they were rescuing him. Anakin had gone off to restore communications and Obi-Wan had headed towards the presence of Chokt.

Grievous was nowhere to be seen when Obi-Wan finally found Chokt, who was being escorted to a detention area by a squad of droids. Freeing the Jedi had been simple, as no droid could stand one-on-one against even an unarmed Jedi. The problem with droids was sheer numbers. And, as the only one with a lightsaber, Obi-Wan and Chokt had attempted to sneak out of the facility to avoid complications.

But it was not to be. They had been discovered and Grievous had arrived. Chokt was able to pull his own lightsaber back from the collection that Grievous seemed to be creating and the battle had swirled from there.

Block. Twirl. Pull. Grab. Deflect. Dodge. Shift.

This was why Obi-Wan buried himself in the Force, because Grievous was an untested adversary who had been created by Dooku. Obi-Wan could not do this on his skill alone. He needed the Force to just stay alive. Though fighting Grievous, in many ways, was easier than fighting Dooku had been, Obi-Wan would not be taken down again. Not when he had a Padawan who still had so much to learn.

So he let the Force guide him.

His defense with Soresu was impenetrable, and Chokt attacked forcefully with Niman, yet Grievous seemed insurmountable as each of his four arms wielded a lightsaber in a different form. The higher arms melded Soresu and Shi-Cho for defense and the lower mixed Djem-So and Makashi for offense. To say nothing of mere moments before when all four arms charged forward in Juyo after Grievous had flipped around in Ataru moves.

The cold didn't help either. Grievous and his cybernetics seemed unaffected by the frigid temperatures that were continually lowering as night fell. Chokt did not have proper cold-weather garments, though his fur provided some insulation and Obi-Wan, who _did_ have proper protection for the weather, didn't have as much freedom of movement because of it.

It was just a horrible situation.

Obi-Wan could only hope that Anakin had gotten communications working again and had sent a call for help to the Republic.

"Die, Jedi scum!"

Chokt was knocked away, slamming into the wall with enough force to make his head bounce off the wall.

Obi-Wan didn't even have time to check if he was all right. He brought up his blue blade as four lightsabers hissed his way.

Grievous growled, pushing down. Obi-Wan dropped to a knee, struggling before dipping his lightsaber and letting all four slide harmlessly to the side with the force of Grievous's push. The Jedi flipped over, turning in mid-air, ready to strike when-

_COLD!_

A wave of cold seemed to emanate from deep inside him, spreading to all his limbs, making them heavy and numb. His body started to instantly tremble, goosebumps running from his toes up unto his hair. His strike faltered, missing completely and once Obi-Wan landed, his feet were so numb they couldn't support him and he rolled backward ungracefully.

Already, he was reaching for the warmth of the Force, trying to let it heat the parts of him that were suddenly so overwhelmingly cold. Instinct had him up on his feet and running to get some distance between himself and the cybernetic general that was already hot on his heels. Chokt was slowly getting up, but clearly disoriented. Likely a concussion.

Spin. Twirl. Divert. Divert. Dodge. Slide. Flip.

Keeping Grievous from killing him took up almost all of his attention. Even letting a small part of himself try and focus on what had just happened was a great risk as the smell of ozone got far too close to his face covering. Movements hampered by bulky protection from the elements, Obi-Wan leapt backward, hoping to find a small hallway or _something_ to give him some advantage and make Grievous trip over his many limbs, let Obi-Wan's smaller size provide greater mobility.

Deep in the Force as Obi-Wan was, once he let a part of himself start working on the puzzle of where all that cold came from, it didn't take long for an answer to present itself. The cold had not actually come from himself. It was being funneled into him.

Ducking and spinning, Obi-Wan let two blades slide off his as he slid around the cybernetic general.

But from where? Who had penetrated his shielding without his knowledge and what purpose did they have in simply making him feel like he was naked on Hoth? Because if anyone was good enough with the Force to slip into his mind like that, why not just kill him? Why make him desperately yearn for a hot bath, a cup of tea, and a warm blanket by a fire?

The Force provided the answer before the thought had even formed: Anakin.

Obi-Wan was going to have to go over shielding with the boy again. Chosen One or not, Anakin knew to shield his thoughts, especially in battle, as a moment's distraction could be disastrous.

A flip over the general, a Force push down the hall, and Obi-Wan took off running, seeking to check on Chokt while he had the time.

Reaching along his bond with Anakin, Obi-Wan sought to strengthen his shields. Really, how had Anakin gotten through without his noticing?

A violent shiver made him stumble, but he pressed forward.

Obi-Wan was surprised to see his shields were still in place. But the cold coming from Anakin's side of the bond was melding with the shields and passing through with barely a hesitation. His Padawan's ability to be inventive had yet again redefined how the Force could work. Really, Obi-Wan' shouldn't be so surprised. Since the shielding along the bond wasn't doing any good against the cold, Obi-Wan dropped it and devoted a part of himself to sending warmth to his apparently freezing Padawan.

Chokt was up and steady on his feet again. He ran a hand through his fur, turned to Obi-Wan, and nodded. Grievous burst through a wall and the fight was back on again.

* * *

Anakin was turning into an Anakin-cicle. This oh-so-simple pick-up mission had turned into a disaster. Grievous was there, droids were there, super battle droids were there, really the Padawan was expecting Dooku to show up and slice off his other hand. It was freezing cold, and Anakin did _not_ like the cold, not one stinking bit. And while his master was off doing the fighting, Anakin was supposed to stop whatever was blocking the communications. Which was fine, he understood that he was more mechanically inclined than Obi-Wan, but Anakin always preferred a straight-up fight than sneaking into a place to destroy/steal/observe something and sneaking out.

Slicing into the mainframe had been a snap, but the communications relay was on a separate server that Anakin had had to _find_ in order to disable. And where did it turn out to be? A heavily armed tower. This was fine with Anakin, as it had given him an excuse to storm the place. While Obi-Wan and Chokt were elsewhere in the facility (hopefully kicking Grievous's cape), he had made his way through a legion of droids up to the tower.

It had been easy. He'd sent off a message to Cody without any hassle and just taken a moment to bask in his success. Anakin even had thoughts of making it back to Coruscant and maybe finishing his month of leave from active battle by spiriting Padme away to some quiet retreat and spending some _proper_ time with his wife. He hadn't been sure whether it would be a good idea or not to bring Obi-Wan along, since his master _could_ use a break, but he _might_ put a cramp on Anakin's style. It had been a nice little fantasy that was blown, quite literally, when some idiot droid thought it had been a good idea to blow up the tower with him in it in order to stop him.

The tower toppling all around him, Anakin had been trapped as it had collapsed down from the cliff to the frozen lake below... and then _through_ the ice into the frigid water that he was currently swimming through while turning into an Anakin-cicle.

Had it been mentioned that Anakin did _not_ like the cold? Because he didn't and it was _not_ working for him. His thick parka and protective clothing (a.k.a. the stuff that was supposed to _prevent_ the cold from reaching him) were now even more cumbersome as the weight of it, once drenched, was slowing his movements. Swimming through ice water was difficult to begin with. The added bulk needed to go and Anakin was left _taking off_ the protective clothes just so that he could become more maneuverable.

Thankfully, as a Jedi, he could hold his breath. For a long, long, time, as Obi-Wan's good friend Bant had made him learn during those long swimming lessons she'd given.

Once free, Anakin was swimming down collapsed corridors, and dilapidated doorways to try and find a way _out_ of this icy nightmare. Granted, the Force could keep him warm but that didn't change the danger of being in his current situation for any extended period of time. He was already missing one hand, he'd rather not lose the other to frostbite. Or a foot. Really, Anakin might like mechanics, that didn't mean he wanted _more_ cybernetic implants. It was already beyond strange when he was tinkering on his own arm.

Frustrated at every collapsed ceiling and debris-choked hall, Anakin decided the only thing he could do was to use his lightsaber to start _cutting_ his way out of his darkening prison.

Too bad lightsabers didn't really like to work underwater.

_Grrrrr_!

It was at this point that Anakin started to utilize his vast and extensive list of less-than-polite vocabulary.

Grabbing a light from a pouch on his belt, he went back to searching for an exit that _wasn't_ completely blocked off. All the while, the cold was penetrating him, despite his best efforts. He was long past goosebumps and well into sluggish movements, and if he didn't focus on moving his toes and flesh fingers, he was certain they'd start going numb. He shielded the bond; Force only knew that Obi-Wan didn't need to be stumbling due to feeling his Padawan in trouble. Granted, he'd been shielding the bond since they'd separated, but he reinforced it.

Another blocked stairwell and Anakin rolled his eyes. He reached for the Force, primarily for its warmth, but also some level of guidance on just _where_ he was supposed to find an exit.

To his surprise, he felt a steady stream of warmth coming from both the Force and somewhere else.

Seeing as he had nothing better to do at the moment, Anakin closed his eyes and looked inward to see where that blessed heat was coming from.

He gave a mental gasp and dropped his shielding along the bond, letting the heat of a bonfire wash over him and bringing feeling to limbs that were slowly freezing. _Master?_

_Busy! Coming!_ was all Obi-Wan was able to send back, intense concentration filtering across.

Anakin silently huffed. There was _no way_ he was going to need his master to rescue him. Similarly, there was _no way_ he'd make Obi-Wan dive into this frozen pit of hell. He'd get out on his _own_ thank you.

Anakin opened his eyes and turned to the debris blocking his path. He may not have a lightsaber, but he _did_ have the Force. All he needed to do was push.

* * *

Obi-Wan flipped back again, reorienting himself with the direction of his lost Padawan. The bond was no longer shielded at either end (and _how_ had Anakin still manage to funnel cold through _both_ of their shields _without_ his own knowledge?) and he needed to ignore the constant swearing and colorful commentary of Anakin trying to get out of his frozen underwater prison.

Knight Chokt was by his side, still woozy, but still fighting fiercely, if more defensively. He was following Obi-Wan's lead and Obi-Wan didn't _dare_ share his plan with Grievous bearing down on them, blades twirling.

Duck. Twist. Parry. Block. Push.

For now, the best that Obi-Wan could do was lead Grievous on a merry chase in the vague direction of his Padawan. Chokt kept up, sensing a plan in Obi-Wan's push-and-run strategy. It was amazing that they hadn't run across more droids, but any they came across seemed to be rushing toward some other objective that neither Obi-Wan, nor Chokt, minded stopping by slicing them into pieces.

"Give up, Jedi slime!" Grievous roared.

"Not likely," Chokt shot back, ducking a swipe that singed his fur and darting back behind Obi-Wan's impenetrable Soresu swings.

And so they continued. Obi-Wan continuing to draw the cybernetic general along, keeping Chokt and himself safe from precise swings and swift thrusts.

At last, they reached an outer wall. Now was the tricky part, to make Grievous think it all accidental.

Two lightsabers bore down and Obi-Wan blocked them, letting them slide to the outer wall and guiding their cuts. With a flip of his own blade, looking like he was pushing Grievious's blades aside, there was finally a hole in the wall where even _more_ cold air blasted through. Chokt seemed to get the idea and did likewise with the blades he was facing, making the hole even larger.

And, just as Grievous was distracted with Knight Chokt, Obi-Wan pushed through the Force.

The general howled out his anger at this as he plummeted to the icy lake below.

Waiting just a moment for there to be enough distance, Obi-Wan dove after him, hoping that the cold water would send Grievous packing to repair damaged circuits. But if that didn't occur, it was best to keep the cybernetic general busy while Anakin found his way to the surface.

Chokt joined him, his fur turning into tangles in the frigid wind.

* * *

Anakin held on to the bonfire coming from Obi-Wan and guided it to his extremities, trying to hold onto the heat as the cold kept trying to beat him down. This freezing underwater thing was _long_ past old and well into ancient territory. Seriously, was it really _so_ difficult to find or make a way out? Any time he used the Force enough to clear a path, there was another blockage beyond, and even using the Force to move things meant he couldn't use it to keep warm.

It was a frustrating cycle of getting nowhere or freezing.

Some choice.

And to make matters worse, the cliplight he'd been using from his belt was also starting to freeze, the battery draining unbelievably fast. By now, it was undoubtedly full night, meaning no light in his freezing prison, meaning it was only going to get _colder_.

If Anakin wasn't so busy trying to stay warm with the Force, he'd be using his extensive vocabulary to state _exactly_ what he thought of the situation.

Swimming down another hallway, he _finally_ same a spark of hope. In the distance, his cliplight caught a cracked window and the flash of scales from some type of fish beyond.

Good. A way _out_. It was about time.

Too bad Anakin forgot his master's many, many lessons on patience.

Halfway down the hall, the weakened structure above his head finally gave way; burying him and knocking what little breath he had in his lungs out.

* * *

Obi-Wan rolled onto the ice, letting himself slide. He also noted, to his irritation, that the giant hole had no doubt marked Anakin's entrance was already refreezing. That was not good. Chokt was nearby, but Obi-Wan couldn't tell where. Grievous was nowhere in sight, but then, that was no surprise given that it was full on nighttime now.

Reaching out to the Force, Obi-Wan could sense Anakin well below him (no surprise there) and Chokt off to his right, struggling to stand with his concussion. Grievous was near, but Obi-Wan couldn't get a clear direction. He moved closer to Chokt, helping him up.

"Can you sense him in this darkness, Kenobi?" the Jedi whispered.

"No, Chokt. Just his overpowering anger and frustration," he replied.

"Hehe. We are harder for him to kill than those before us. He shall not succeed. We will take him in."

"I'd rather just get away." Obi-Wan reached out further, trying to find Grievous, but to no avail. The anger was too overwhelming. "My Padawan is in trouble and you are not well."

"I'm fine."

Obi-Wan allowed himself to roll his eyes in the darkness.

There was a set of distinctive _snap-hisses_, and both Jedi turned their eyes immediately to three lightsabers glowing in the distance, illuminating the now very-frosty form of the cybernetic general.

"Jedi scum!" Grievous bellowed, racing towards them. Obi-Wan noted that he was not as fast as he had been in their battle to this point. Hopefully that meant that the cold was affecting him.

Both Chokt and Obi-Wan split up, letting the darkness conceal their movements. Force allowing, they'd be able to sneak up on the cybernetic general, not igniting their lightsabers till the last moment.

Grievous howled in frustration as he slashed at where the Jedi's voices where, only to find nothing.

"Cowards! Face me you slime!"

Not likely. Obi-Wan didn't care for subterfuge, but he understood its purpose and utilized it when necessary.

He used the Force to edge his way around the freezing hole in the ice. Anakin was a determined pulse below him, a stream of curses flowing when not using the Force for something. Obi-Wan still devoted a corner of his mind to sending the warmth of the Force to his freezing Padawan, which Anakin soaked up almost greedily.

Grievous held up two of his three sabers, trying to use their soft glow to see anything in the dark night, not realizing that Chokt was already sneaking up behind him. Obi-Wan kept edging around the hole, determined to take down Grievous swiftly so as to help Anakin. Keeping his steps light and silent, Obi-Wan was now in front of Grievous. So, with a silent nod to Chokt, he ignited his blade, drawing Grievous's attention, giving his fellow Jedi the chance to strike.

But Grievous was too good.

The one hand that did not have a lightsaber reached behind him, grabbing Chokt around the neck and squeezing. Obi-Wan surged forward, fiercely attacking, trying to distract the general enough for Chokt to escape.

But fighting three lightsabers did nothing. Grievous's cybernetic enhancements included the ability to be able to multitask with his many arms, and he easily kept Obi-Wan at bay as Chokt's life slowly drained from him.

There was a snap as Chokt choked, his life finally drifting back to the Force. Obi-Wan leapt backward, turning off his lightsaber and moving into the darkness once more. The green of Chokt's saber joined Grievous's arsenal and Obi-Wan allowed himself a brief moment to mourn before refocusing.

Attacking Grievous thus far had proved futile. Obi-Wan needed more training, and the cold and his bulky protective clothing were proving too much of a hindrance. So Obi-Wan did the only think he could think of.

He reached out with the Force and sent a wave if icy water at the cybernetic general.

Grievous did not like this. He did not like it one bit as his growl of indignation echoed across the frozen lake. Faintly, underneath the growling, Obi-Wan heard the grinding of gears and smiled to himself. He sent another wave of water, soaking him from head to toe, watching as the lightsabers flickered and died. Even this had Obi-Wan sighing in relief and grateful that Bant had shown him how to build a lightsaber that withstood being underwater. A third wave of water and Grievous started to retreat.

Thankfully, the retreat was hurried along as the spotlight of a Republic cruiser that was coming down from orbit. Good. That meant Anakin's distress call had worked.

"General?" Cody's voice came over his communicator.

"Cody, your timing is impeccable."

"Thank you, sir."

"Send down a squad to try and get Grievous and make sure you send a medical squad to my current location."

"Sir?"

"Yes, prepped for hypothermia, frostbite-"

There was a sharp snap of pain along the bond as something struck Anakin, knocking the wind out of him.

Obi-Wan grunted. "-and possible asphyxia."

"Sir, are you alright?"

"I'm afraid my Padawan has put himself in quite the bind."

* * *

Anakin shivered despite the fact that his heart was speeding up rapidly. His mental processes were slowing and he was well aware that hypothermia was starting to set in. Yet Obi-Wan's bonfire continued to warm his mind and the Force that Anakin could reach in his muddled state helped. It was why he'd been able to survive so long thus far.

He held on to the Force almost desperately. He wanted to be able to see Padme again. He wanted to meditate with Obi-Wan again, even if it _was_ the meditation about what he'd done to the Tuskens. He wanted to survive, so he held on.

Turning, he used his dimming cliplight to study the collapse that had him pinned, but he couldn't see enough to try and move it with the Force, and he couldn't concentrate enough to even use the Force to sense things.

Despite the fact that he was freezing and underwater, Anakin could feel his body producing tears of frustration. Dammit, this _wasn't_ how it was supposed to be. This was _war_. He'd fought and bled and lost and won. He was _stronger_ than this. He had been working to get the power to keep his loved ones safe without even realizing that he needed power to keep _himself_ safe enough to protect them. And why was he thinking about power? That was how he'd thought after he'd found his mother and she'd died in his arms. He'd been meditating to wash away that darkness. A Jedi did not seek power. It would simply be there when needed, not something to be grasped and held on to. Just trusted.

But Anakin had so much trouble with trusting. It took a great deal of time for him to warm up to someone enough to trust them. And despite all his time learning the Force, he still didn't trust it. Because anyone he did trust, he was at least equal with or better than. He could always force an issue if he had to, logic someone to his viewpoint or just ignore them and do what he thought was necessary. But he couldn't do that to the Force. One could never force the Force. It simply was there or it wasn't. And that made Anakin uncertain, so he did not trust.

He'd only just realized that in a meditation with Obi-Wan just last week. It had lead to a long and interesting discussion about how much will the Force had and whether the Force was sentient enough to think about what was best to do or whether the Force was simply instinct.

_Come on, you idiot, _focus_!_ Anakin chided himself. Once more he reached out for Obi-Wan's warmth and the Force. He'd find a way out of this so that his master wouldn't have to come swimming down this frozen nightmare to rescue him.

Anakin flashed his light around again, looking for anything that might help or even provide leverage for him to move what was around him while he could still somewhat feel his fingers.

He shivered again.

_Anakin!_

Looking up (when had he put his head down?) Anakin saw the gentle blue glow of his master's lightsaber.

He smiled. _Master!_

_Hold on, I've got you_. His master, who hadn't been stuck freezing as long as him, waved a hand with ease, shifting the collapse and freeing Anakin. The frozen Padawan immediately started swimming forward, but was surprised to find his limbs stiff and jerky. _Grrrr. Master, _this_ is why I _hate_ the cold_.

Obi-Wan chuckled, swimming forward and wrapping an arm around Anakin's waist.

_Come on. Cody is standing by to warm us up._

_Eww. Master, I only want Padme to warm me up._

_ ... Padawan!_

Anakin laughed softly. _Sorry, Obi-Wan. Hard to focus._

The arm around his waist squeezed him. And though Obi-Wan didn't say anything, Anakin could hear the concern and exhaustion running around in his master's mind.

_Sorry to make you worry_, he mumbled as Obi-Wan swam them to the surface.

_No need to apologize Anakin. Not unless you've gotten a hold of my datapads again._

Anakin didn't respond and just snuggled into his master as best as he could.

_Rest, my weary Padawan. You'll be just fine. We're almost there._

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Just another look at how strong their bond is getting. Anakin did a nice little wandering into why he wants power and how he's working on _not_ wanting it that we didn't quite expect, but does show Palpatine's influence is still there, despite the fact that Obi-Wan and Anakin are working (unknowingly) to obliterate it. ^_^ Living in New England we have all ranges of weather, from hot and humid/uncomfortable in the summer to pleasant and gorgeous in the spring/autumn, to frigid and cold in the winter. Given how many times Anakin and Obi-Wan have ended up on hot/steamy planets like Tatooine, Geonosis, etc, we thought somewhere cold would be a nice change of pace. Also, by the end of the Clone Wars, Anakin is teasing Obi-Wan about how many times he's rescued him and we rather liked the idea of reversing that and having Obi-Wan saving Anakin for a change. ^_^

There are also a few unintentional, but nice call backs to earlier drabbles, such as Anakin crying out LOST instead of COLD, along with others we'll leave you to ponder. ^_^

Next week: Mace and Anakin have to work together. Somehow, one doubts that this will be easy. Or work.


	19. Where Things Aren't Right

**Where Things Aren't Right**

Mace stood at the foot of the gurney, arms folded as he regarded the person in it. Skywalker sat, his own arms crossed, as he openly glared at the Council member. They stared at each other in silence. Mace wondered why Skywalker was being so difficult. It shouldn't be so hard, a report on what had happened on the frozen planet of Norscan. Obi-Wan had already given his report and now it was simply Skywalker's turn. But the Padawan was merely radiating frustration and displeasure towards Mace.

The Council member wished Obi-Wan there to act as intermediary, but the Knight had been called to oversee the delivery of supplies to the station that Skywalker had been brought to due to such severe hypothermia. He didn't understand why Skywalker was being so silent about this. He'd been injured on missions before and never had an issue with reporting. He'd been sent out just as they'd returned to the Temple before, and there were never any problems. But Mace seemed to be the last one Skywalker wanted to see at the moment and wouldn't even say _why_.

Very puzzling.

... And annoying.

Not to mention disrespectful since Obi-Wan had left with a quiet "Behave," tossed to his headstrong Padawan.

"Padawan Skywalker, I merely wish to know your part in what happened on Norscan. That is all."

Skywalker scowled horrifically before stiffly running a flesh hand through his loose hair. "I _know_," he growled before letting out a deep breath. "Look I... It's just that... Arrrgh."

"Whatever you're feeling, Padawan, release it to the Force. It is hampering your ability and needs to be released for you to have a clear mind."

"_You_ are not my _master_," Skywalker grunted. "_Don't_ act like you are!"

Mace narrowed his eyes at such insubordination. "I am not the master who trains you, but I _am_ a master, and your disrespect is unacceptable."

Skywalker took a breath for rebuttal, but let it out instead, clearly trying to regain some balance.

"Look, _Master_ Windu, I..." there was a faint growl that sounded like it was directed elsewhere, "I... apologize... for my rudeness," he finished grudgingly. "I... something has me on edge and I don't know _what_. There, I admitted it, happy, Master?"

"It is not about my happiness, Padawan Sky-"

"Not _you_, I was referring to _my_ Master."

Mace narrowed his eyes. Something... wasn't right about this conversation. It sounded like Obi-Wan and his stubborn Padawan were communicating directly, despite the distance from the Medical Center to the docking bay at the other end of the space-station, well over a kilometer away. Being able to communicate at such distances was exceedingly rare. At best, there would be general impressions and feelings. Not such a direct and specific link.

Skywalker seemed to notice that Mace was suspicious of this and became more visibly guarded.

Mace let out a breath and all irritation into the Force. "Start at the beginning. What was the situation after you separated from Knight Kenobi?"

With full sarcastic commentary, Skywalker started, haltingly, to explain his part of the mission to save Chokt. He was in the middle of how the droids had blown the tower out from under him when he suddenly stiffened, started swearing loudly, and threw back his sheets, ripping out his IV and stumbling out of his gurney to grab his lightsaber.

"Padawan Skywalker," Mace said sternly, intent on lecturing the young man about his behavior.

"No time," Skywalker shouted, rushing past him for the door. "Something's wrong. Something's _wrong_. Master, what's happening?"

Mace frowned, opening himself up to the Force. He felt no disturbance, and he hurriedly chased after the Padawan. "You do not have leave to be out of bed, Padawan Skywalk-"

"Just shut up Mace," Skywalker snapped, grinding to a halt so quickly Mace was hard pressed not to run into him. The Korun Jedi was about to reprimand the boy for his rudeness when he saw the closed eyes and tight face. He was concentrating incredibly hard and his presence was swelling in the Force. His eyes were darting back and forth behind their lids and his mouth was turned down in a vicious frown.

Blue eyes snapped open, intense. "Separatists," he murmured, and dashed off again pushing aside Mace without thought. "Master! Separatists are about to come out of hyperspace!"

"Padawan Skywalker, what are you trying to-" Mace's reprimand was cut short as the Force sung in warning only microseconds before the entire station rocked, causing Mace and Skywalker to stumble to one side. The Council member allowed himself a brief moment to marvel at the Padawan's precognitive ability before hoisting himself to his feet and grabbing said Padawan's arm to lift him as well. The hypothermia was not completely treated, his skin was cold to the touch and shivers still ran down his body. But being barefoot and clothed in only a medical wrap seemed to mean nothing to the boy as he steadfastly continued to march down the halls.

"Bantha kriffing poodoo I forgot my communicator," he mumbled before pausing at a terminal and inputting some codes. "Cody? Cody! Where are you?"

"Bridge, sir," crackled a response. "Seppies came out of hyperspace and rammed us; starboard docks from the looks of it."

"I know all that!" Anakin growled, apparently just as disrespectful to others and not just Mace. "Where's Master? Where's Obi-Wan? Is he still at the docking bay?"

"I don't know, sir; but I've got reports that super battle droids and droidekas have breached the hull and are swarming everywhere. I need to position the men."

"But where's Obi-"

Mace took the tranceiver. "This is General Windu, Commander Cody; you can expect Padawan Skywalker and myself to make our way over to the docking bay and assist the clones already in combat. If you can contact General Kenobi, let him know we're on our way."

"Sir, yes sir!"

Mace ended the transmission and leveled an aloof glare at the Padawan. "You're thoughts betray you," he said in even tones as he started a light jog down the halls; it would take several minutes to traverse the halls and find the right lift that would take them to the docking bay. "You're more concerned for the welfare of you master than the security of an entire space station." Mace thought of the time Anakin was still a youngling, seeing his master off on a mission and hugging him - hugging him! - before he left. It was such an obvious sign of attachment and Obi-Wan had done nothing to hinder it being attachment prone himself. Now he was seeing the results; already Anakin was not thinking of others but of his attachment to Obi-Wan. He had an extremely deep bond with his master, if the telepathy he seemed to be demonstrating was any indication, and the Jedi frowned upon such deep bonds.

"Don't judge me," Anakin hissed, overtaking Mace's quick jog and pushing the pace to an outright run. "He's in danger, I can sense it."

Seven or eight minutes later they came upon a lift that Skywalker all but threw open, slamming his palm into the control panel to in put his desired destination.

Mace tried again, annoyed that they were both out of breath because of Skywalker's reckless haste. "There is no passion, there-"

"There is serenity. I know, _Master_ Windu," Skywalker retorted, interrupting Mace. "There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no emotion, there is peace. Master Obi-Wan has taught me very well, thank you. I know the code inside an out."

"One would not know it with your actions and your thoughts at this time," Mace asserted.

"Don't you dare," Skywalker answered, lifting a cybernetic hand and shaking it at Mace. "Don't you _dare_ insult my Master when it's _me_ you have a problem with!"

The Council member frowned. "I have no 'problem' with you, as you put it. It would appear that you are projecting your inner turmoil. The better question is perhaps why _you_ have a problem with _me_."

The boy glared, his mouth turned down into a petulant pout, his eyes wide in concealed emotion. Mace held the gaze, having no fear of the child; he was a tower of patience and calm, and ultimately Skywalker could not hold the stare, turning away and lowering his gaze. The Councilor allowed himself an internal smile of satisfaction that Jedi principles could calm even the wild Skywalker. He made a mental note to suggest this to Kenobi when the current crisis had abated.

"When we arrive our first priority, Padawan, is to assist the clones," Mace instructed. "Not to look for errant masters."

Skywalker utterly ignored him. Mace was about to repeat himself when he watched the Padawan's face pale and a hand clutch to his thigh, the metal digits fisting around the cloth of his medical wrap. Wide, startled eyes turned to Mace. "Master Obi-Wan," he said in hushed, almost confused tones, "I think he's hurt."

"Padawan, now is not the time for-"

"Blaster shot. In the thigh. It _burns_." Skywalker winced and rubbed his leg, metal and flesh hands caressing the muscle before pulling back to Skywalker's confused face. "It _was_ him, right?"

"Do you not know?" Mace asked, incredulous. What delusion was this? Had the hypothermia somehow affected his mind?

The lift rocked to one side, the lights blinking before turning off entirely, and a sickening grinding sound exploded around the tiny elevator. Both Mace and Skywalker collapsed to the ground, the boy's cool hands bracing against anything for support. They were both quick to their feet, Skywalker launching himself at the terminal, pressing buttons until he ran out of patience and ignited his lightsaber, slashing it through the doors and using the Force to shove the door open. Mace grabbed his arm before the boy could explode out into the corridor. "Patience Padawan," he said firmly. "We do no know what awaits us."

Skywalker wrenched his arm out of the iron grip - an impressive feat. "_You_ may not," he spat, "but _I_ do. I know every droid, every blaster, every clone that's out there; it's all in my head. Now just _shut up_ and let me do my job."

He dashed off.

Mace sighed through his nose and marched off. Damn Skywalker and his impulsive lack of self-control. He might be content to march off into the heat of battle and risk his life and those of everyone around him, but Mace would not. He took a few quick turns before climbing a narrow series of stairs to one of the docking bay's observation decks. The deck was filled with gold B1 droids and a small squad of clones with brown markings. Mace ignited his lightsaber and became a blur of purple light; leaping and thrusting and viciously cutting. When the droids were sparking husks on the floor, Mace allowed himself a grin of satisfaction of a job well done and turned to the clones.

"Sir! Commander Ponds at your service!"

"What's the situation, Commander?"

"Separatists battleship came out of hyperspace with so much speed they rammed the docking bay. That was the plan; they used the confusion to overwhelm the facility. We tried to stop them but they're out and infiltrating, don't know where to."

"I see," Mace said, opening up another terminal and sending a coded channel to the bridge. "Commander Cody, this is General Windu. Droids have escaped the starboard docking bay and are infiltrating the space station. They may be heading to your location to take over. Have your men ready."

"Yes, sir!"

"Commander Ponds, how many men do you have at your command?"

"Sir! The Lightening Squadron is at your service!"

Mace looked out the transparisteel window overlooking the docking bay. It was a mess of droids and clones, but Mace could quickly see the ebb and flow of the battle. He glanced at the ships, the fuel tanks, the transporters. He looked up, an idea springing in his mind. "Commander Ponds," he said. "Take your men and see if you can get to the catwalks above the hangar. You can place your artillery and have the advantage in the fight. I will cover you from below. We can stay in contact with my communicator."

"Yes sir!"

"Good. Go."

"Come on ladies! Let's get a move on!"

Ponds and his men dashed down the narrow stairs in disciplined rank and file, Mace hot on their heels. They turned one way, he the other, and soon Mace was out on the battlefield. Two quick strikes, a leap, and a Force assisted pulse of energy gave him the room he needed to decide where to focus.

"Hey, we have another Jedi!" one of the gold droid called out.

"Oh, great, another one."

"We'll be okay, we got the last one so we should be-"

The droid never finished its sentence and Mace cut off the machine's head, launching himself into the fray. The droids tried to overrun him, but he was master of the aggressive Vapaad form for a reason, and the machines were simply no match for him. Green and red blasters rained from every direction, but Mace countered all of it, deflecting his shots only when he could aim the specifically at droids that were hurting or overrunning clones in his line of sight. This in turn gave the clones time to regroup, form up, or reload, reengaging with firm resolve and cover fire from Ponds and his men above. With each step Mace took, he turned the tide of the battle.

His goal was simple: the breach where the droids were pouring into the docking bay. There had to be some way to plug the hole, per se, either on his end or theirs, and he needed to assess the damage in order form a plan. Droidekas rolled up to assault him but a sweep of the hand sent them careening over the heads of clones to bash into the stations walls, crumbling before their shields could be erected. SBD, their wrists raised and firing steady streams of light, also fell to Mace and his fighting prowess. He was beginning to enjoy himself when he saw a pair of blue lightsabers. Smiling slightly, Mace continued his assault and watched as the two joined him.

"Late for the party I see," he said lightly.

Kenobi answered first, "It would appear that you simply started without us."

"Someone had to," Mace replied, focused on his work.

"Can't you ever just be _nice_?" Skywalker demanded, plowing through droids as Kenobi worked around his Padawan, his defensive Soresu complimenting Skywalker's aggressive Djem So. "You always have to nitpick every little thing! Never mind that we've taken care of all the droids outside the docking bay you have to-"

"Anakin, now would be a very bad time to antagonize a Council member," Kenobi cut in, his lightsaber swinging tight arcs around Skywalker while the Padawan used the Force to push a dozen B1 droids aside like flower petals.

They were even with Mace now, and the Councilor saw the tight bandage wrapped around Kenobi's thigh, just where Skywalker had grabbed his when he'd suffered his delusion of his master being hurt. Was it not a delusion, then? Had young Skywalker managed to sense not only his master's danger - something any Padawan could do - but his master's own injury, feel it so intensely he thought he himself was injured? Mace had never heard of such an occurrence before, he could not understand how that could even happen.

Something... wasn't right. He looked at the two with his special insight, trying to put his finger on what was happening between the two, but the cacophony of the battle was too distracting, and he was forced to refocus on the overwhelming assault of droids.

He would examine the phenomenon in more detail later. Perhaps Master Yoda would have some insight.

For now, the three Jedi had a battle to fight.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Where to start... This was the very last drabble to be written in this story. This whole story has been an experimentation for us. We've always done fics sequentially with a definite plan for beginning, middle, and end and an outline. This story had plenty of ideas (and kept generating more) and while we were writing part one we were anxious to do part two. While doing part two, we REALLY wanted to do part three. Even doing the parts didn't go in order. We jumped around from the areas we had inspiration back and forth. One minute doing a drabble near the middle, then back to the beginning, off to the end, and somewhere in between. The result was the whole making-sure-we-had-a-good-sense-of-flow for this part is very difficult. There's definitely Beginning of Clone Wars, Middle of Clone Wars, and near Anakin's Knighting.

Once we had moved on to part three, and had enough distance, we came back and read this part from beginning to end to see if it flowed well. There was always something missing between the beginning of the Clone War and a chapter you'll see in two weeks. We poked and prodded and tried to do something, but we were in part three mindsets and having a difficult time coming back to this. We tried to do a chapter with Ventress, a chapter with Dooku, there were many iterations that didn't seem to get beyond even one page. There was just no inspiration.

Then one day, Image sat down and produced this.

We're not complaining. Of course, this could no longer be chapter twenty, but chapter 19, but it was fine. We still worry about the flow, but it's hard to know for sure just because we're so close to the story, despite some distance.

This will mark the first chapter from someone's point of view OTHER than Obi-Wan and Anakin. You will see other's views sporadically, and Padme will become more and more important. Particularly in part three (gee, what a surprise).

Mace can be somewhat difficult to write. He's such a tightly-controlled person that it's hard to really know what his thoughts are unless you've read books based on him (which we haven't) like _Shatterpoint_. By RoTS, he clearly believes in Anakin as the Chosen One, likely because of everything Anakin's been able to do over the course of the Clone Wars. But we don't know what his thoughts of Anakin are before RoTS. People seem to find it easy to make Mace antagonistic, but we don't see that. We'd imagine that Mace is nothing but puzzled by Anakin. At least we hope it comes across as accurate to his character.

Next week: Anakin learns something Obi-Wan has done.


	20. Where Petitions Mean Something

**Where Petitions Mean Something**

Anakin stood perfectly straight, feet spread more than shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind his back. He stared out the view port, three meters of transparisteel to protect him from the void of outside. Streaks of light shifted beyond it, randomized and ever changing: white noise for the eyes.

It wasn't meditation, exactly. He wasn't kneeling or exploring the Force, or working the darkness out of him, but it was cathartic. Standing in this pseudo-military posture made him feel authoritative, which in turn made him feel powerful, which in turn made him feel confident, which in turn made him feel _calm_, which in turn made him feel mature, which in turn made him feel authoritative. He had discovered it when he was in his late teens, and used it on occasion - usually after a fight with Obi-Wan that inevitably made him feel like an utter youngling. Now he found it particularly useful because it filled him with the aura necessary to lead, it made him feel like he could _do_ it. All from a simple posture.

He smiled. Palpatine often said half of the battle was looking the part - after that, one merely faked it until they made it.

There was little sense of time watching the streaks of hyperspace light. He was supposed to be meeting Obi-Wan for meditation, informing the Council of their recent conquest of a planet, searching for the Sith-Witch Asajj Ventress, inspecting the troops, really any number of things required his immediate attention. He thought he would enjoy commanding troops, of being trusted enough to manage battles and fight in the war. The responsibility thrilled him at first. Now it was a list of chores that kept him from doing the things he wanted to do: being with Padme, becoming a Knight. He enjoyed the rush of battle; the adrenaline in his veins when he was fighting that was so like the Podraces when he was a kid. It was the aftermath that hurt him, made him realize that clones - people - had died in that battle, and as commander, it was his responsibility to order squads to search for survivors, to call for medical evacuations, to tell troops to collect body parts in case they were useful to amputees. He never had time for graves, not even funeral pyres. It was becoming disturbingly common to just leave the dead on the field - to instead scavenge for weapons and ammo to recycle for the next fight. It was after the battle that his overwhelming confidence wavered, and so he would stand straight with his hands behind him, looking for the inner calm and resolve he would need for the next crisis he would avert.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Anakin sighed and turned to face his master.

"You'd better not be saying that I've become predictable," he quipped fighting two urges: relief and annoyance that his master was there. Where the two emotions came from, he couldn't place, and so he buried them in favor of banter.

Obi-Wan offered a wry grin - the only smile he would wear in public - but offered no comment, instead waiting for Anakin's imagination to make its own conclusions. The Padawan's mood wasn't quite good enough to rise to the bait, so he turned away from the view port and shifted his stance. The calm and confidence tried to linger, but quickly dissipated in the knowledge of what he was about to do. He wrestled with it until it was merely annoyance.

Obi-Wan, ever sensitive to changes in mood - especially his Padawan, raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to do this."

"I wouldn't say that," Anakin said softly, shifting his weight around. Space, would he ever _not_ feel like a youngling around this man? "I just think there are better things we could be doing right now." Even inspecting the troops would be better.

Obi-Wan's gaze said a lot; not all of it Anakin could interpret, but he could definitely feel the assessment, the measuring of the gaze. He suddenly felt more irritated. The older man finally sighed through his nose, stroking his beard. "Anakin, you should do this because you _want_ to, not because you feel _forced_ to."

"I know, Master. It's just..." he trailed off, trying to articulate his feelings. He understood why the meditation to release darkness was important. He did. The idea that he'd touched the dark, touched what made people like Dooku or Ventress who they were, it sickened him because he didn't want to be anything _like_ them. He hated them so much that he hated admitting that he _was_ like them, that he _had_ succumbed to the darkness in order to slaughter a village. It didn't matter how much they deserved it - and he hated admitting that they did deserve it because in his deepest core, he knew that was only justification - and he hated admitting even that. He also hated reliving the deaths, and he hated reliving watching his mother _die in his arms_. He hated... he just hated thinking about it, meditating on it, and admitting all those things at least to himself.

He hated that he hated so much.

He would much prefer pretending it never happened.

And how could he explain that to his master, the perfect Jedi?

Obi-Wan tugged at a ginger strand on his jaw, eyes still narrowed, before he sighed again and clasped his hands behind him in an eerie mimic of Anakin's posture from a few moments before. It didn't look powerful or confident on Obi-Wan. But there was an absolute authority to it that Anakin couldn't deny.

"I leave the decision to you, Anakin," he said with utter finality. "I can't force you, you have to _want_ to do this. If you do decide to join me, you know where I'll be."

Obi-Wan left. No spinning on his heel, no final glare of disapproval, not even a sad sigh. He just left.

...

Anakin cursed. "Master, wait for me!"

They walked through the halls of the star destroyer in silence for several minutes before Obi-Wan asked a question. He seemed to know just how long before Anakin would explode from the tension - likely a carry over from his skills as a negotiator. "I thought you didn't want to do this?"

Anakin couldn't quite hide his sulk. "I don't _want_ to, no. I never _want_ to do this meditation, but I know I _need_ to."

Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow, glancing at his Padawan. "You know you need to?"

Anakin huffed out a long breath. "I'm always..." angry. "I don't..." understand how to handle how he felt about the whole thing. Understand even _what_ he felt. "I'm not..." He frowned. Was there anything he _could_ tell his master? Obi-Wan found out about the entire affair with the Tusken raiders, it was the ugliest secret he had, but even now there was still an instinct to be quiet - even a year after the fact. Something closed his mouth, and he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Was it shame in disappointing his master, shame in what he'd done? Fear of punishment, fear of rejection even now? Anger at how it all turned out?

He fought to grind out the next sentence.

"I'm not strong enough to do this myself."

Force, it _hurt_ to admit that.

It hurt to admit that, left to his own devices, he'd ignore everything, take the easy way out, and let the darkness fester inside him. He avoided negative emotions like the plague, but they always snuck up on him and consumed him, and often he'd rather pretend those moments never happened.

In the end, he knew he needed Obi-Wan to poke him into doing what was necessary.

So much for being independent. So much for being a proper Jedi.

_...if only he knew..._

Anakin perked at the stray thought, giving a covert glance to his master. This had been happening more and more of late; and the Padawan wasn't sure what to make of it. He had been told on occasion that he and Obi-Wan shared a very deep bond: there were very few master/Padawan bonds that could reach the depths of direct communication of the mind and yet they managed it. What Anakin felt no one knew, or at least understood, was _when_ they did it: when it was necessary. It happened when Obi-Wan was leading them through a meditation, or during battle when they were trying to coordinate, situations when it was necessary to lower shields enough to send out a simple sentence or impression from one that the other could interpret to words. When it wasn't necessary, they both worked on their shields - something Anakin at best was only ever passable at, while Obi-Wan was an adept master.

And so it was strange to Anakin that, over the last several months, he could catch stray thoughts from his master. Obi-Wan _never_ let up on his shields. Anakin couldn't figure out how it was happening. If they already had the deepest of training bonds, then surely they wouldn't get any deeper. Besides which, Obi-Wan never mentioned anything about catching _his_ stray thoughts, but then Anakin was never good at hiding things to begin with, given Obi-Wan had even discovered the Tusken Raiders - one thing he could have sworn he kept well hidden and buried. Perhaps Obi-Wan was doing it deliberately? A test of some sort for Anakin? He was always subtle about tests, granted, but Anakin doubted his master would test with just _stray thoughts_.

He glanced at his master again. If it was a test, then he should probably do something about it. And besides, he was curious.

"Only knew about what?" he asked softly.

There was a slight rouging of Obi-Wan's cheeks, the only tell he gave and would have been invisible if not for the iridescent lighting of the cruiser.

"I was wondering if you realized how difficult it is for a being - any being, even a Jedi - to admit that they need help. It takes a kind of strength to admit that. It also takes a kind of strength to know that a duty will be difficult, even painful, but do it anyway."

Wait. Was that...?

"Are you saying I'm strong?"

Obi-Wan's eyebrow raised again, the intent to let him draw conclusions again, but Anakin caught another stray thought: _in ways that I will never be_.

Anakin flushed himself, something that felt suspiciously like... pride. Honest, heartfelt _pride_; pride that his master thought so highly of him, that he thought he was strong.

The meditation didn't look too bad now.

* * *

After a year of meditating jointly, they had worked out all the kinks and sunk into the Force easily. The pair took a few moments to just enjoy the sensation, floating in the waves of power that gently lapped against them, before the two focused on Anakin's signature.

This time the focus was on his mother, Shmi. Obi-Wan gently coaxed out memories, those of happier times. There was the time when she held him over her head, spinning in a circle as fast as she could to make him laugh. There were the times he was stuck in the 'fresher when she would walk by the door, or crawl by the door, or dance by the door, all for the sake of his entertainment. There were the songs she sung to lull him to sleep. There were the bittersweet memories, her anxious face when she learned about the podracing, her multitude of attempts to get him to stop. There was the time he crashed, just before Qui-Gon and Padme arrived, when she hugged him at the crash site. Slowly, Anakin introduced his last memory of her: strung up on a rack, cuts and gashes and bruises everywhere, dried out and cracked lips, _dull eyes_ that had always been full of life. Together, they tried to allow the positive emotions of his mother wash over the negative. The love and the happiness and the contentment washed over the anger and the pain and the loss.

Through this, small pieces of darkness broke off of Anakin's core. The first was the anger that there were beings out there that could perform such atrocities. Anakin had felt this several times in his early life because of his slavery. He accepted that there would always be people like that out there and resolved to fix it whenever he could. Knowing that, he let it go. There was the self-loathing that he had done what he did. He accepted it, and resolved that he would never do it again. He let it go.

Then came the harder emotions. The pain of his mother's actual death. Even now he could still feel the sharp snap, his mother was there and then she wasn't. There was a void in his mind, and _emptiness_ that terrified him. She _left_ him, he'd begged her to stay with him and she _still left_ and it made him so _angry_. He could only ever accept it in infinitesimally small pieces. There was a core in those feelings that he didn't even want to admit in meditation.

That even stars died...

Obi-Wan was suddenly there, his presence a cool balm against his hot emotions. In the distant reaches of his physical body, he let out a hot huff of air. Perhaps he was sweating. Anakin curled up against Obi-Wan's presence in a way he never could in traditional meditation, reaching out to that other mind for relief against his own. He was running away again, he knew it, but he couldn't quite stop it because it always _hurt_ so much and he was tired of hurting.

He was just numb at first, not wanting to think, to feel.

Then, one word caught his perception: ..._petition_...

When they finished the meditation, their breathing speeding up to normal rhythms, their eyes opened, Anakin asked a question.

"What petition?"

Obi-Wan blinked. "What do you mean, 'What petition'?"

Anakin shrugged his shoulder. "Just now, when I was finishing up... I thought I heard you think 'petition.' What does a petition have to do with my mother?"

Obi-Wan flushed again, and Anakin decided he just might like the terrible lighting of Republic star destroyers if it gave his master away like that.

Said master was quick to deflect. "And why were you looking into my mind when your job was to look into yours?"

"I was overheating, you were a coolant; and you're not going to let this slip, Master. I know you too well. Negotiator or not," Obi-Wan allowed himself to roll his eyes at the nickname he loathed, "I'm not going to let this drop. You of all people know I'm quite tenacious." Anakin gave his best disarming grin.

Obi-Wan leveled his best glare of annoyance, but Anakin only turned on the charm of his smile, cocking his head to one side.

"Anakin."

"Master."

The two could have played at this for hours if they wanted to; Obi-Wan the unyielding, annoyed, put-upon master and Anakin the persistent, annoying, seemingly-innocent Padawan. It was often a source of great entertainment, a way to lighten things when they had no energy for something else. The fun quickly wore off, however, because now Anakin was openly curious; he sensed, somehow, that this little nugget of information was very important - more so because _Obi-Wan_ was the one giving that impression. The banter half of the act was thrown out, and Anakin fixed his master with a more serious gaze. "_Master_," he said again.

Obi-Wan sensed the losing battle and gave a deep, resigned sigh.

"When you were younger, I petitioned the Council to buy your mother's contract."

... What?

"... What?"

Obi-Wan just looked at him. He didn't repeat himself. He didn't need to.

Anakin wasn't sure what to feel first, all kinds of emotions flooded over him.

The first that got a voice, of course, was his anger.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he yelled, leaping to his feet. There was something satisfying in looking down on his master. "I was the one who promised to come back for her. It was my job! Why did you get in the way!"

Obi-Wan still said nothing, just looked up to his Padawan with a calm face. It only irritated Anakin all the more, he started pacing; back and forth and back and forth, trying to work through it.

That hurt. It _hurt_ that his _master_ didn't tell him that he'd tried to save his _mother_. There was jealousy that his master had even tried when it was his own personal crusade - it was like Obi-Wan going out on a date with Padme; it just wasn't supposed to happen. There was irrational hope that he might have succeeded if he'd only tried harder. There was an old worry and fear that he _purposefully_ didn't try all that hard because he really didn't love Anakin at all; he never did. But most of all there was hurt that his master didn't trust him enough to tell him.

_"Do you understand what it feels like to realize your Padawan doesn't even trust you enough to tell you?"_

The memory flooded his mind of its own volition and his pacing started to slow. Who was he to complain when he kept his own secrets? There had always been a part of his mind that he kept private, to himself. Palpatine said that it was natural, that everyone had a secret part of him-or-herself that no one else could see. Even Obi-Wan had his own circle of privacy; who was Anakin to deny it?

...Except this was about his _mother_; that meant he was _entitled_ to know about this. Why didn't Obi-Wan trust him? _Why_?

...Only couldn't the same logic be used on him? Mass murder reflected on his master, and so wouldn't Obi-Wan have been _entitled_ to know about his slaughter of the Tusken raiders?

... But he didn't.

... He'd never intended to.

...

Anakin ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the lengths long enough to grab and yanking at his small tail. His pacing slowed more. If they were so close, if everyone praised the two for their deep bond, then why did neither of them trust the other? Not for the really important things. What was wrong with them?

He was standing still now, looking his master straight in the eye. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, not calm exactly, but no longer irate.

Obi-Wan signed again. "I didn't want to give you false hope," Obi-Wan said finally. "Every time I went to the Council they told me that doing so would encourage your 'very bad habit' of attachment."

"... Then why did you do it?" Anakin asked. He offered a weak smile, a shadow of the normal wry grin reserved for banter. "Why did the one Jedi obsessed with obeying the rules try to break one?"

"Oh, I had every rationale in the galaxy," Obi-Wan offered, rubbing his bearded cheek. His grin, too, was only a shade of the one he was supposed to wear. "We would be righting a wrong, that when we contacted her she would be given piece of mind that she made the right decision, we could have possibly hired her to the Temple, she could be given the opportunity to give back the galaxy, I was quite creative. The Council reminded me every time that I could not right every wrong, that there were simply not enough of us to perform gestures like this. But most important of all: I should do nothing to foster and encourage attachment in you." His grin changed slightly, something that might almost have looked bitter. "You were already struggling enough as it was to let her go, and they decided that it would be best that you maintained your clean break so that time could close the attachment."

Something deep in Anakin _burned_. Those sanctimonious _bastards_. They knew _nothing_.

Obi-Wan's gaze became sharp, his hand pulled away from his face and he stood to his full height - so much shorter than Anakin but always commanding so much more respect. "Your thoughts betray you, Anakin. They did the right thing. Their reasoning was more than justified."

"You can't believe that!" Anakin countered. "Or else you wouldn't have petitioned the Council to begin with!"

Obi-Wan's head tilted, considering something. Finally he closed his eyes and braced himself. "I suppose they also knew the real reason why I kept petitioning them."

That brought Anakin up short.

Obi-Wan continued: "Anakin, I've been raising you for over ten years. I heard you cry yourself to sleep when you first came to the Temple. I know about the nightmares that would send you to my room. I knew they were worry over your mother. I wanted to give _you_ piece of mind."

... That...

... That was _everything_. Something blossomed in Anakin's heart that was hot, but not the burning smolder of his anger. It was gentler, warmer if that was possible, and soft. It bubbled up to his cheeks, flushing them, burning his ears and making him suddenly smile. Sincerely _smile_.

They didn't trust each other with everything.

But, for the first time, Anakin felt that maybe they could try.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I really don't seem to have the ability to be "brief." The idea of this? "Anakin learns that Obi-Wan petitioned to free his mother." ... And how long did it take for me to get there? (sigh)

The more we write from Anakin's POV the more we understand his character, and this is probably one of the best iterations of him so far. Obi-Wan, too, turned out really well in this piece.

Anakin's ruminations about the bond will become very important later. Just saying. ^_^

Next week: "In Anakin's colorful and interesting life as a Jedi, there was only _one_ time he ever went completely and utterly AWOL. And this was if you included his sneaking out of the Temple as a child, the many times he made his master insane with worry when he disappeared on a mission in order to do things _his_ way, and the horrible time he deserted Naboo with Padme to check on his mother. Even if you included all of that, there was only _one_ time he went AWOL."


	21. Where Anakin Goes AWOL

**Author's Note**: A day early because we couldn't stand to wait any more. ^_^ For those of you who thought "Jabiim", we give you plushies!

**Where Anakin Goes AWOL**

In Anakin's colorful and interesting life as a Jedi, there was only _one_ time he ever went completely and utterly AWOL. And this was if you included his sneaking out of the Temple as a child, the many times he made his master insane with worry when he disappeared on a mission in order to do things _his_ way, and the horrible time he deserted Naboo with Padme to check on his mother. Even if you included all of that, there was only _one_ time he went AWOL. And that was the day he returned from Jabiim.

It had been an utterly terrible two months on the rainy, muddy planet. And upon his return, Anakin had been summoned immediately by the Council to give his report. They were all weighed down by sorrow as he recounted how Padawan after Padawan had died along with Jedi after Jedi. When Anakin finally got to the part about his own Master, missing and presumed dead, Anakin barely noticed that even Mace's shoulders were falling under the cost of the battle. Yoda stepped down from his seat, hobbled over as if the galaxy hung on his very being, and stopped before him. On instinct of many meetings with Yoda, Anakin dropped down to his knees in an attempt to match the diminutive master's height.

Yoda looked up to him, wrinkled brows creased in compassion and understanding and sorrow. Anakin just stared at him, numb down to the very core of his being after the hell of Jabiim. A green clawed hand reached out and touched his arm and Anakin shuddered.

"Your master, did you find?"

"No, Master Yoda."

Yoda's eyes closed and his head tilted down, as even more weight seemed to be added to his tiny shoulders.

"A great loss, this is. A great loss."

"He's not dead."

It wasn't the first time Anakin had stated this. He had proclaimed it long and loud on Jabiim. He was getting tired of repeating himself. That horrible moment in the rain where the bond had suddenly flared with pain and then gone _silent_ still haunted him.

Anakin had never been completely alone in his mind ever. Even as a child, though he could never hear her thoughts directly or even know what she was feeling, he'd always had a sense of his mother always by his side, even out on the racetrack. It was just something that was. His mother was always with him even after he'd left her on Tatooine when he went to become a Jedi.

His sense of her had faded over time, but that had been replaced by Obi-Wan. His master had eventually started working on their bond, gently caring for it and letting it slowly grow. So as his sense of his mother started to fade, his sense of his master had grown. It had even flourished beyond what either of them expected as the Clone Wars started. Up until that dreadful flash of pain, his master was a strong and steady presence in the back of his mind. The distance at which they could communicate was slowly growing. No longer would they be mere rooms apart and only have a vague sense of the other's feelings. Their first encounter with Grievous on that icy planet had proved that they could still speak, even at almost a kilometer apart.

That terrible day, Obi-Wan had been grumbling, frustrated at the rain and how pitifully the battle had started. Plans and strategies were being analyzed while another part of Obi-Wan was grieving quietly over Jedi already lost. And only after two weeks on the planet. It was just so like Obi-Wan. And it was just something that Anakin always had running in the back of his head. Something he had apparently taken for granted.

Because when there was silence, Anakin came to realize just how much he _needed_ that background chatter. It was reassurance that Obi-Wan was there and hadn't left him as his mother had. No matter how frustrated or exasperated Obi-Wan ever was with him, he was always still there in Anakin's mind. Something that he could cling to after nightmares. Something he could reach for when confused. Things he did naturally without even thinking about it any more.

And now there was silence. And in the successive time on Jabiim, Anakin came to realize just how _often_ he looked at that warm glow in the back of his mind. His bond with Padme was still so very new. She wasn't sensitive to the Force and he could only work on the bond when he was actually with her. And stuck on that stormy planet, for the first time in his entire life, Anakin was alone in his head.

He learned that he hated being alone.

No amount of calling and reaching for his master worked. Even now, Anakin had a thread of himself in that silent, empty bond that just lead off to nothingness, seeking to find that gentle glow. It was why he'd pushed so hard, not even breaking for eating or sleeping, to search. In the end, exhaustion had stopped him and any hope he'd had of finding a trail for his missing master.

Because Obi-Wan wasn't dead.

Anakin knew death. Death was like an old lover, one that was well acquainted with Anakin. He'd felt his bond with his mother, withered and faded as it was, snap painfully when she'd finally died. The shock of her presence, a feeling that he was soothing after being so long without it, being there, and then not. The rip and tear in his psyche as the one person he'd loved since the day he was born no longer existed. The snapping slice of departure. One moment she was there, filled with love and life as her body failed, and then his heart broke as she was gone. He'd watched as the bond he had with her, frail with disuse as it was, disappear into nothingness.

He'd been feeling that snap almost constantly as everyone around him, clones, Jedi, Padawans, even innocent civilians, died left and right in this terrible forsaken war. Yes, death was an old friend that kept reappearing. Anakin felt it every single time someone close to him died.

He hadn't felt that snap with Obi-Wan. His bond still existed, trailing off to somewhere. And as long as that bond existed, Anakin _knew_ that Obi-Wan was alive. He _knew_ it with every fiber of his being.

But _everyone_ told him it was impossible. That his master couldn't have survived the vaporized AT-AT. That he needed to accept that his master had joined the Force. That he had wasted valuable resources searching for a dead man. That if he didn't acknowledge the loss of his master soon, he'd be risking his sanity and the lives of those around him. That his troops needed him and to focus on the damn battle, Commander. That he could look for the body later, after the Separatists had been defeated. That fresh Jedi were coming in and he needed to brief them.

And not _one_ of them listened when Anakin said that Obi-Wan was still alive.

So he just stopped saying it. Fought a losing battle.

And as the silence grew, hope at finding a lead started to dwindle in dark despair.

Anakin was just tired. And numb. And just didn't want to deal with this right now.

Yoda looked at him with such kindness and sympathy. The hand on his shoulder squeezed, and the tiny master let out a long sigh. "Dead or not, a master you will need."

"My master is Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan and no one else.

Because Obi-Wan was still alive. He didn't need a new master.

Yoda sighed. "Rest. Rest, young Padawan. Speak further we will, in the morning."

Anakin had been numb when he left the Council chambers. But that was his constant state of being. Without Obi-Wan, things seemed so dull. So silent.

He returned to his quarters, home at last for the fist time in five months.

It just felt so wrong. Obi-Wan was supposed to be by his side, or off to Dex's to pick up a meal to celebrate their return home while Anakin unpacked and sent word to Padme that they were back.

The apartment felt cold. Empty. Dead. Only Anakin didn't like to think of the apartment as dead. Because that implied things he didn't believe or want to think about. He turned to the kitchen to get something to snack on, and half expected to see Obi-Wan pulling out pots and pans to start cooking Anakin's favorites after such a difficult mission. That was the type of thoughtful thing Obi-Wan always did for him.

His master had said that because Anakin hadn't grown up in the Temple, there were things he wouldn't know and things that Obi-Wan wouldn't know having never lived anywhere _but_ the Temple. His master had always made a point of trying to accommodate the fact that Anakin had lived differently, but could still be just as good a Jedi as one Temple-raised. When Anakin had mentioned some of the things his mother had done for him, Obi-Wan would consider them, talk about some of the attachment behind it, lessons that he learned about Anakin's mother's wisdom, and discuss what would be a suitable substitute that would fill the need without replacing his mother.

One of those accommodations had been cooking Anakin's favorites after a particularly bad day or experience or celebration of a particularly good accomplishment. Obi-Wan had always been the better cook of the two of them (banning Anakin from the kitchen wholesale after the Stove Incident), and Anakin had enjoyed sitting at the table, doing his crèche-work and watching his master hum in the kitchen.

Appetite gone, Anakin went to Obi-Wan's room to put back the things he'd salvaged from their tiny tent on Jabiim. Obi-Wan would want them back where he could find them, after all, when he returned.

The room still smelled of his master, even after five months. The numbness in his chest seemed to spread, as Anakin looked at a small desk with an empty teacup that Obi-Wan had forgotten to take care of in their rush to get to the front lines again. Anakin shook his head.

This was no good. On Jabiim he'd had one crisis after another to deal with. He'd been able to ignore the numbness. The cold. The _silence_. Because there was always something to do, something that needed his attention, something that required his complete focus. And though he had moments when he reached for that warm glow that was so utterly silent, he could always distract himself. Even on the transport here, he was writing his report and working on how to word things to the Council.

Now he had nothing to draw his eye. Nothing to focus on.

Nothing but the silence.

The apartment was so very silent. An eerie echo of the silence in his mind.

Too silent.

Anakin stomped to his room long enough to throw his bag to his bed, and headed for the common room to turn on the HoloNet. It didn't matter what station. A movie, the news, a sitcom, _something_ so that there wasn't so much silence.

He didn't get very far. Set up in the common room were their meditation mats.

_Meditation_.

Anakin hadn't been able to sink into the Force at his master's side for so long. The Force didn't seem to flow the same without Obi-Wan's warm glow. Anakin's attempts at meditation just didn't work as well. Meditation had always been hard. And now, without Obi-Wan there to guide him, Anakin felt it was almost impossible. But he kept trying. Because Obi-Wan would not be pleased when he returned and found Anakin had been slacking.

The numbness disappeared, and suddenly Anakin was on the floor, face buried into Obi-Wan's meditation mat, sobbing, crying, howling.

Too much. It was all too much.

Even as he cried out, it was all so _silent_.

This was why Anakin went AWOL.

* * *

C-3PO, human-cyborg relations, was puttering around Miss Padme's apartment at 500 Republica, as he often did when his mistress wasn't home. She had been called back home to Naboo the previous week, the Queen needing her for something or other. So Threepio was left taking care of the various things left behind. Representative Binks took care of the political items, keeping in close contact with the young senator in case an important vote came up.

Threepio was left to deal with keeping the apartment clean and taking messages from the various callers and visitors who did not yet realize that his mistress was not there.

Really, Threepio wondered at the intelligence of some of these beings. Surely one would look up Senator Amidala's schedule on the HoloNet. She always made an announcement on her personal Net page on when she was home and when she was on Coruscant and such. She was ever so thoughtful that way. But no, rather than using the brain or brains given them, beings would just call and show up, expecting her to still be there and that Threepio was merely lying so she could be alone for a moment.

Really. How rude.

But he dutifully took messages for his mistress, letting all visitors and callers know that he would bring them to the young senator's attention as soon as she contacted him or arrived, whichever came first. Most would politely thank him, others would grunt and growl about it.

Those that were so utterly rude were immediately put to the bottom of the list of messages. Threepio took a tiny amount of pleasure in that.

Threepio had to admit, he was ever so grateful that Master Ani had bequeathed him to Miss Padme. Though he would always be loyal to his Maker, Threepio did not have the best of memories of his time on Tatooine. Lady Shmi, Master Cliegg and the family were all supportive of him, but he was not doing his primary function of human-cyborg relations. To say nothing of the sand that got in his joints, even after the coverings Lady Shmi was eventually able to get for him. Here, with Miss Padme, Threepio felt he was performing at his best. He could play the dedicated host to whatever dignitaries Miss Padme invited over for meetings, offer translations from his knowledge base of over six million languages, especially for Senators that could not form Basic syllables such as Wookiees, and he could inform Miss Padme of the various cultural protocols of various species that she may not be familiar with.

He'd never asked for much, and Threepio was glad that he'd finally found his niche. A place where he could function at his best and do what he was built to do.

There was a sudden soft _thud_ out on the balcony, something that would not be audible to most human ears. Turning, Threepio put aside the dust cloth he'd been using and walked out to the common room.

"Master Ani!"

Threepio rushed forward. The marriage was supposed to be secret! What was Master Ani doing on Miss Padme's balcony in the middle of the day where anyone could see? Oh, the worry these two could place on him!

"Master Ani, inside, please, before someone sees you!"

The young Jedi looked at the protocol droid blankly before nodding and coming inside. Threepio quickly shut the blinds, despite the fact that the windows prevented anyone from seeing inside, as an extra precaution that both Miss Padme and Master Ani often did when he came over to visit.

"It's the middle of the day!" Threepio started to scold, knowing how careful the young couple had been to keep their marriage a secret. "Why are you-"

"Is Padme here?" Master Ani asked, just standing in the middle of the room and looking at the floor.

Threepio did not feel irritation at the young Jedi that he did to the other callers who came and didn't know that his mistress had gone, despite her posting it on the HoloNet. After all, one need only watch the news to see how a Jedi could be completely cut off in battle and not know what was going on. The protocol droid barely needed a twentieth of a second to realize that Master Ani had likely only just arrived on planet and had not had time to check anything.

"I'm afraid not. She was called back to Naboo last week over an urgent matter."

Master Ani stayed quiet for a long time, just standing there in the middle of the room.

Threepio was worried. It was unlike Master Ani to show up in the middle of the day without some sort of advance warning. Indeed, despite the lovely weather, the young Jedi looked quite chilled.

"Shall I get you something?"

His maker merely stood there.

"Well, as you look rather cold, I think I'll get you something warm to drink."

Still no answer.

This worried Threepio as he hurried to the kitchen, bustling with a kettle and heading to a cupboard with a type of tea that Miss Padme always liked to have when she was cold. Master Ani was only ever this quiet when he was meditating and from what Threepio had seen, Master Ani was certainly _not_ meditating by just staring at the floor.

Setting the tray, Threepio brought it to the common room and set it on the coffee table. "Some tea, Master Ani?"

"Tea?" The young Jedi looked up enough to look at the kettle and cup. And then, to Threepio's horror, Master Ani's face crumpled into tears and he just turned, heading to his bedroom.

"Oh dear," the protocol droid murmured. His Maker was deeply upset and troubled by something that much was clear. He followed Master Ani and watched as the young Jedi collapsed into bed, hugging a pillow close. Threepio observed for a few minutes, uncertain what to do. Despite his vast programming of protocols and languages and understanding of human behavior, all of that coding was primarily for protocol, what to do in polite situations, how to translate difficult slang, what was proper to do. Very little of that coding had to do with emotional duress, since a protocol droid would never need to be there if a being was in need of such aide.

Clearly, Threepio's programmers hadn't really thought enough about the human aspect of human-cyborg relations. It was saddening for Threepio to realize that he had no idea what to do with Master Ani so distraught.

Thankfully, Threepio did know how to reach Miss Padme. Perhaps she would know what to do with her husband and could advise him.

He quietly closed the door and went to the comm' unit.

* * *

Padme sat back, laughing as her sister Sola regaled their family with an interesting tale of one of her daughters day that was overdone and horribly exaggerated, but incredibly humorous. Really, Padme hadn't been able to laugh like this without the stresses and worries of the Senate or the war for months, and it was nice to have this one evening with her family while she was back on Naboo. Granted, this was the only night that could be scheduled in, and Padme regretted that it was only one night, but she enjoyed it while she could. She paid close attention to Sola's stories, hoping she could share them with Anakin whenever he got home. He always did enjoy the tales of both of her niece's various misadventures.

Her father was starting to launch into an embarrassing tale of her own childhood, something no doubt similar to Pooja's tale, when Padme's comm' beeped.

"Sweetie, it's the dinner table," her mother admonished.

Padme ducked her head. "Sorry, Mom. I thought I'd turned it off." That and everyone she'd spoken with today new better than to interrupt her on this night. Looking at her comm' she was surprised at who it was. "Threepio? Why are you calling me?"

"Oh, Miss Padme! I'm so glad I could reach you!" came the droid's ever-worried voice. "I know I was not to bother you, but something quite dire has come up and I don't know what to do. I thought that I simply _must_ call you-"

"Threepio!" she interrupted. "Calm down." Really, that droid could worry over the simplest things sometimes. "I'm sure it's not as serious as you think."

"Aunt Padme will fix it!" Ryoo said, clambering onto her lap with all the enthusiasm of a six-year-old. "Aunt Padme fixes everything!"

"I'm so sorry to disturb you," Threepio continued. "Really, I would not have felt it necessary if it weren't for the fact that this goes well beyond my programming. It has to do with my Maker."

Padme's smiles completely disappeared. "Give me a minute, Threepio," she said, putting it on mute before the droid could complain. She turned to her family. "I'm sorry, I need to take this."

"Really Padme," her father shook his head. "Business at the table?"

"Actually, no," she replied, gently putting Ryoo down next to her sister. "Excuse me."

"Make it fast, sweetie," her mother sighed.

Sola just looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Padme didn't say anything more, rushing up to her room for some privacy. She should have known. Threepio really _did_ know better than to call her unless it was an emergency. And the reference to his maker was code for her husband, since nobody outside of the Lars, herself, and her husband, knew that Anakin had built Threepio. Padme could only hope that whatever Threepio considered "dire" was an exaggeration.

"Go ahead, Threepio. What happened to Ani?"

"I don't know, Miss Padme!" Threepio sounded as frantic as when they were heading to Geonosis, completely out of his element. "He arrived here in the middle of the day looking rather chilled and when I offered him some tea, he just started crying. Even now, he's sobbing in your bedroom. Please, Milady, I am not programmed for any such protocol on such tumultuous emotions, tell me what I must do."

Padme paled, worry blossoming and engulfing that happy feeling that she'd been nursing just moments before. Plans were already firing round in her brain, excuses she could use to explain her early departure, diversions, distractions, so that she could get back to Anakin and help him through whatever was troubling him so devastatingly. Because her husband did _not_ just break down to tears at a cup of tea.

Already, she was repacking her clothes. "I'm on my way back, Threepio. But I'll be a few days." Because transport took so much _longer_ during war with checkpoints and security sweeps. "In the meantime, contact Master Kenobi at the Temple, he can help until I arrive. Be discreet."

"Of course, Miss Padme. Is there anything I can do for Master Ani in the more immediate future? He's starting to get quite loud."

Indeed he was, she could hear his sobs over her communicator. "The apartment's soundproofed, so it shouldn't be a problem. Just make sure nobody sees him."

"As you wish. Oh I _wish_ I could do something more."

"I know. So do I."

"Very well. I'll see you in a few days, Milady."

"Bye," she disconnected and immediately started to contact others to arrange her transport.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Padme turned, still talking to Typho, to open the door.

"I know, Captain. But I don't want anyone to know I'm heading back to Coruscant. If anyone does, I'll be called back to the Senate ... Yes, I know, Dorme will take over for me here so no one knows ... I _can_ take care of my self once in a while, but I thank you for the concern ... Just have the ship ready. I'll be there within the hour."

Sola sat on Padme's bed, looking at the already packed suitcase as she put down the comm'.

"You're leaving?"

Padme let out a sigh, sitting down next to her sister. "Yes. A friend of mine back on Coruscant was hospitalized." And it _stung_ to lie like that to her sister. But it was a cover-story that was at least partially true, because if Anakin was hurting enough to cry at the mention of tea, then he _was_ hurting enough to be hospitalized. Only not for his body, but for his heart.

"And the secrecy?"

Padme shrugged. "Once anyone finds out I'm back, I'll be pulled back into politics immediately. Threepio already has a long list of things that people have apparently been coming to see me about and I want at least a few days to visit uninterrupted and without having to worry about how things are in the Senate."

Sola reached forward, grabbing Padme's hands. "My precious little sister. This friend of yours. He wouldn't happen to be someone you're interested in, would he?"

"_Sola_!" Padme couldn't deal with this right now. She knew her sister's heart was in the right place, but she couldn't discuss this now. Not with the heavy weight that her marriage to Anakin was a secret, even to her family. Not with the frightening knowledge that something was wrong with Anakin and had disturbed him so much that he'd gone to her apartment in the middle of the day. She didn't want to lie about this, but she just _couldn't_ deal with her sister's well-meanings right now. "No, _she_ isn't. It's just..." Tears were coming to Padme's eyes. "It's _serious_, Sola."

And that was true at least.

Sola let go of Padme's hands and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "There I go again, teasing you like I always do, wishing you'd settle down when you're honestly concerned about someone you hold dear. My timing stinks."

Padme gave a soft chuckle. "It's okay, sis." She squeezed Sola back before getting up and going back to packing things. She wiped her eyes. "Next time I'm home, I'll just sit and take your bad jokes for an hour without fighting back and we'll call it even."

Her sister raised an eyebrow. "Make it three hours. After all, it's not often I get the opportunity to best you in verbal combat."

"An hour and a half, because if I can ever get more than an hour home, it's a miracle."

"Two and a half hours and we can break up the time, I don't mind."

"Two hours and that's my final offer."

"Deal."

Padme chuckled, realizing it would probably be the last laugh she'd have for a while.

* * *

Threepio was getting concerned. It had been three days since he'd called Miss Padme and there was something strange going on. Aside from the fact that Master Ani hadn't said a word since his arrival and did not leave the bedroom unless biological functions called, and would at random intervals be either deep in meditation or crying hysterically _just_ as someone came to call on Miss Padme, for some odd reason, Threepio simply could not reach Master Kenobi.

He'd tried the personal communication line that his mistress had with the Kenobi/Skywalker apartment in the Temple and received no answer. Granted, Threepio was trying to be polite about when he called as most beings didn't like being called during a meal or when sleeping, but one would think that just one of the multiple calls he'd made would have been answered. He had even, in a fit of fried circuitry, tried to call in the middle of the night and let the comm' keep ringing for an hour, but there had been absolutely no response.

Failing in that, Threepio had contacted the Temple directory, claiming a Senator would like to communicate with Master Kenobi, but he was told that Master Kenobi was still on assignment on Jabiim and unreachable. This simply wasn't true as far as Threepio was concerned, because Master Ani was back. And while Threepio did not always understand humans, he _did_ know that Master Ani would not have come back without Master Kenobi and that Jedi were honest. Therefore the Jedi he had been speaking to hadn't been told any new information.

It was all very worrisome. Master Ani clearly needed someone and Threepio could not reach anyone. Miss Padme was in hyperspace on her way back, and Master Kenobi seemed to be impossible to find. Any attempt the protocol droid made to get an answer from Master Ani would send the young Padawan either into deafening silence, deep meditation that lasted for hours, or crying.

Goodness, Master Ani hadn't even had anything to eat! Threepio was so very concerned. Something was so very wrong and he felt so helpless.

All he could do was keep trying to discreetly reach Master Kenobi while awaiting Miss Padme.

* * *

Padme was on an air-taxi when she heard. They were passing by a large billboard tuned to the HoloNet when she demanded the droid to stop the taxi as she sat back and just listened.

"_That's right ladies and gentlebeings. You heard that right. Obi-Wan Kenobi, renowned as the Negotiator has rejoined the Force. He was one of many losses on Jabiim, where Republic forces_-"

Padme sat back, her jaw dropped somewhere down on her lap as it just washed over her. Oh. _Oh_. No _wonder_ Anakin was upset. Oh Obi-Wan. Her face started to crunch into itself as she grieved the gentle caring master of her husband. Oh, Anakin must have been _devastated_. And he was probably _there_ when it had happened. This was just _wrong_. This was why diplomacy was the answer, so that people didn't have to _lose_ the ones they cared about.

"_Of course, the Republic's thoughts are with General Kenobi's young Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear. We understand that there isn't even a body for the funeral pyre, but a small ceremony will be held within the Temple in a few days. The Jedi, as you know, are very private with their rituals and ceremonies, but we understand that Chancellor Palpatine has offered a public service so that we might mourn the loss of_-"

Padme turned to the cabbie droid. "Get moving. Hurry!"

In keeping with Padme not wanting anyone to know she was back on Coruscant, the taxi dropped her off several streets away from 500 Republica. She pulled up the hood of her cloak and hurried down the sidewalks, only the goal of her husband in mind. Once inside the building, since most Senators were already in session, she raced through the halls and cursed the turbolifts for being so slow.

C-3PO all but pounced on her when she arrived.

"Thank the Maker! Oh, Miss Padme I've been so _very_ worried; he has yet to eat anything, nor sleep I might add, and that has made him unbearably rude. He's yet to even _talk_ to me and I've been _more_ than polite in inquiring-"

"Enough, Threepio," Padma said, raising her hand to forestall more exposition. "I'll take it from here."

"Well!" Threepio scoffed, "Really, I was only trying to be thorough..." He continued to mutter and grumble but Padme was already walking past him, through her spacious common room, the cream-colored sofas, past the adjoining open-air balcony, and down the hall to the bedroom.

Anakin was in a state. The blinds to her wall-to-wall window half shut, black lines draped over the entire room. Anakin sat in the center of the bed, his robes in disarray. Mud and scuff marks and holes and grime littered his tunic and outer layers. His boots were missing, one visible by the closet leading to the veranda, the other disappeared to who knew where. His hair was matted and oily, stringy; his braid dangling just in front of his chest. His face was pale even in the late morning light, there were dark circles under his eyes, and Padme more than suspected that they would be lined with red if he opened them. Sweat and tears assaulted her nose and it crinkled in spite of herself.

He was deep in meditation.

"... Anakin?" she asked softly.

His eyes snapped open, bright and fevered and _pained_.

"Padme," he said, his voice cracking. "I can't find him... I've been trying ever since... and I can't... He's not in my head anymore!"

That's right! Padme suddenly realized that death for a Jedi was even more painful because they shared a bond, a link between two minds. The pain of it all swept over her again and she all but jumped onto the bed, wrapping her thin arms around his strong shoulders. His large hands sought purchase on her back, his mechanical one gripping her so tightly it was almost painful and he buried his head into the crook of her neck. His shoulders were shaking as he took deep shuddering breaths.

She rocked him back and forth, cooing and making soft noises: "It's okay, Ani, oh, my poor baby, it's okay. It'll be okay. We'll get through this. We'll find a way."

Anakin moaned into her breastbone. "_How_?" He pulled up slightly, pinning her eyes with his own tortured ones. "The Council wants to give me a new master. That's impossible! Obi-Wan's my only master!"

Padme reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand. "It'll be okay," she said again, trying to soothe the hot pain her beloved husband. "You're right. Nothing will replace Obi-Wan, nothing."

Anakin reached up, holding her hand long enough to place a kiss in her palm. "... Thank you," he whispered. He kissed it again. "Thank you..."

"Threepio says you haven't eaten. Is there anything I can get you?"

Anakin shook his head. "I'm not hungry. Even if I did I couldn't keep it down. Every time I see a teacup..."

Padme quickly nodded, seeing a new well of tears pooling in his eyes. "I understand. Okay. Let's at least get you out of these clothes. A shower might help you feel better. Do you think you can drink just water?"

"I... maybe."

"Good," she said, "I'll see to it. You clean up."

He nodded and got up slowly. Padme stayed long enough to gather up the filthy clothes. Once he was stripped down she saw how thin he was. How long had he not been eating? Since Obi-Wan's death?

She shook her head. One thing at a time.

Once Ani was in the 'fresher she pulled the clothes and walked back to the common room. "Threepio," she said softly, and the golden droid appeared quickly. "Get these cleaned as quickly and quietly as possible. Do we have any soup?"

"Yes, Miss Padme. Do you know what happened to Master Ani?"

She nodded, half listening. "Threepio, I don't want anyone to know that I'm back yet. If any callers come for the next few days keep them in the lobby before shooing them out."

"I understand my lady. Is there anything else?"

"No." Nodding, the golden protocol droid shuffled off quickly to get Anakin's robes cleaned for when he finished his shower. Padme stole herself to the kitchen. The glass of water was quickly dispensed with, and she poured her focus on digging up the thinnest, most water-based soup she could find before heating up the cook unit.

An hour later Anakin was cleaner, looking a little more alive if no less hopeless, and sipping at the soup slowly.

"I won't take another master," he said with an air of utter finality.

Padme blinked. "What?"

"I won't take another master."

"But... Ani... How will you get Knighted without a master?"

Anakin, in turn, blinked. "Obi-Wan," he answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That only made her more confused. "Ani," she said slowly, "How can he... if he's..."

She watched his expression as she floundered around asking how a dead man could get him Knighted. His conviction had turned to confusion, but now it turned to momentary shock before shifting out outright anger. Padme had seen Anakin angry before; seen him shout and pace and curse at things that he didn't like. She saw him frustrated, irritated, annoyed at any number of things or people. She had even, once, seen him throw a mechanical item across a garage in Tatooine, just after his mother died. This, however, was completely different.

She found herself picturing what Ani might have looked like when his mother died, when he said he was so angry he couldn't see straight. The room _rattled_, his face morphed into some kind of twisted effigy of catastrophe and he launched himself to his feet.

"_HE'S NOT DEAD!_"

Padme stumbled to her feet, backing up as she dimly realized this was the first time in her memory that Anakin was angry _at her_.

He paced about the room, legs pumping and arms moving erratically. "Everybody says that he's dead but he's _not_! I didn't feel the snap; there was no rip like I felt with my mother, like with the Padawan pack, like with all the other Jedi on that stupid poodoo eating mudball Jabiim. I felt _every single one_ of them die but _I didn't feel Obi-Wan!_" He pumped a fist into the air and growled, deep in his throat so low his tenor voice sounded almost baritone.

He spun on a heel and ran his fingers through his hair. "Why? _Why_? Why would he do this to me? He saw everything in our meditations, he knows how much I _hate_ this; so _why did he leave me alone_? Stupid old man! I know he hates that fact that he was saddled with me; kirffing poodoo eating womp rat sucking bantha-fucking piece of-"

"_Anakin!_" Padme cried out, shocked. "This is _Obi-Wan_ we're talking about!"

"_I KNOW!_"

Padme backed up again, her face white.

"Force!" he cursed again, the energy suddenly seeping out of him. His long strides shrank to a wobbled shuffle, and a hand lifted to his face, his shoulders hunched together. "Force," he said again, softer this time. His legs could no longer hold him, and he sank to his knees. Padme, whatever fear she felt earlier, was by his side in an instant. "It's not you," he whispered, rocking back and forth. "It's not you. It's not you. I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

And Padme was again rocking her desolate husband back and forth, weathering the storm with him. Her own grief washed over her, and she, too, cried with him.

It was hours later, when both were spent emotionally, that they numbly went to bed. They held each other all night, not quite sleeping, but just looking for solace in each other's presence. Even the next morning, they were just shells of themselves; going through the motions of having breakfast - a thin salt-water soup for Anakin - and finally just sitting on a couch together on the veranda, watching the fountain. Padme looked up to her husband to see his eyes closed, deep in meditation. Leaning against his chest, she listened to his husband's heartbeat, waiting for him to finish.

"I keep trying," he sighed at last, a hand coming up to rub his face. "I follow the bond as far as I can, but it just fizzles off to nothing; I don't know where he is."

"But he really is alive?" Padme asked softly.

"I'm sure of it."

"But how?"

"... I don't know," he admitted. They separated long enough for him to learn forward, and Padme pressed her head into his shoulder, stroking his arm. "They say that he was on or in an AT-AT. It blew up. I was... I felt so much pain and then... nothing. Padme, I've been feeling people die left and right since this stupid war started, _and I didn't feel it with Obi-Wan_."

She saw his face. She heard his conviction. She was convinced.

She only hoped he wasn't wrong.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Hmmm, what to say. Well, hopefully, if we did our jobs right, you were crying or teared up at some point during this chapter. You may have noticed that the rating for this story has been bumped up to M because some of the topics covered (torture) will be addressed. And, no matter how tastefully we try, it _is_ mature material to cover. So we're being safe.

Hopefully this feels true to the original source material. We don't really know the EU aside from whatever we can dig up at wookiepedia so we're trying to hold true to the source material while tweaking so much of what's going on.

Honestly, we're not sure what to say. Other than we're _really_ looking forward to reader reaction with the next few chapters. ^_^


	22. Where the Dead Return

**Where the Dead Return**

"Master?"

Anakin's fighter's reverse thrusters flared to life, skidding the small ship to a full stop. Another fighter saw this and banked, circling until it was facing Anakin's ship and slowed.

Ki-Adi-Mundi's voice crackled over the comm. "Yes, Padawan Skywalker?"

He was a Master of course, but not the one to whom Anakin was referring. Indeed, the young Padawan had not even heard the other Jedi's voice; Anakin had closed his eyes and was completely turned inward, searching... searching... It had been silent for so long now, he'd begun to fear the reality of what everyone had been telling him - that Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead, one with the Force, passed from this mortal coil. Anakin had never completely believed it, he'd witnessed so much death, _felt_ so much death, that whenever he looked to his training bond he found he always doubted. He never felt the snap, the rip he'd felt with others, the ones he barely even _knew_, nor did he feel the agony he did when he felt his mother slip through his fingers. All he had ever felt was a flash of pain that was not his and then utter, deafening, silence.

Except now...

Now...

"Master!" His eyes flew open, elation filling hive voice. "Master!" He felt along the bond, begging for direction. He found it, and already a hand was flying across the controls of his fighter, inputting commands while the other gripped the steering yolk and fired his thrusters. A triumphant howl escaped his throat and he took off at full speed, forgetting about Master Mundi, forgetting about the mission, forgetting about everything else that could be considered important.

He had to go rescue his master, his _real_ master: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

It was a blur after that; he was bursting with so much happiness, so much relief, so much overwhelming _joy_ that the time spent traveling to some planet named Riflor seemed to be gone in the blink of an eye. Bounty hunters were only the barest blips on the radar, easily chased off with a barrage of fire from his fighter back to their ships. It was a joke, really, because he was the finest pilot in the galaxy and they weren't even worth the time it took to either chase them away or blow them up. All that mattered was that presence on the ground by the broken down ship, that beautiful, steady, soft, unwavering presence that meant almost everything to him: the most important person in the world after Padme.

His fighter was still landing when he leapt out of it, having set the ship to shutdown automatically. He ran to the smoking ship, his smile bright enough to light the galaxy.

"Master!" he called out. "Master, I'm here! I guess I'm rescuing you again, huh? What number does that make it?"

And there he was, back to his Padawan. He turned, slightly. "... Anakin?"

The strain in his voice was missed at first, Anakin's emotions making him feel like he was walking on clouds. A quip was already falling out of his lips. "Some day, Master, we'll break you of this overpowering need to be rescued. After all, when I'm knighted I won't always be around to..." His voice trailed off.

It trailed off because his master turned around fully to stare at his Padawan, and Anakin realized that this man was not his master, was not Obi-Wan Kenobi as everyone knew him. He was thin, emaciated. One could tell this because his tunic - he had no robes - was in absolute tatters, covered in slashes, stained with blood and grime and filth and space knew what else. His ribs were visible, once toned and defined muscles had been eaten away through disuse. Color and pallor could not be determined, his body was a painter's pallet of injury - blood stains turned brown with age or still a deep red and leaking; black, blue, purple, green, and yellow of bruises of varying age. Whites of scars long healed, hot pink of infected wounds; it all smeared together with the filth and soil that also stained his tattered tunic. His hair was long, unkept, knotty and snarly and as filthy as the rest of him, his beard was untrimmed and scraggly, colored with bloodstains that had never been washed out.

The worst of it, though, what made Anakin realize that this man wasn't his Master, was his eyes. Those sharp, intelligent blue-grey eyes were now unfocused, hollow, and worn; bags hung under them, dragging them down to something less than human, less than sentient.

This wasn't his master. It couldn't be.

It couldn't.

It...

"... Anakin?" the man asked again. He closed his eyes, his entire face grimacing in pain, something his master would never do. But when he opened them again they were alight with the same joy and elation Anakin had just been feeling. "Anakin... It's really you?" The man released a breath and smiled, a warm, heartfelt smile through the blood and bruises and obvious pain and turned off his lightsaber - _Obi-Wan's_ lightsaber. "I'm not sure I'd call it a _need_, exactly..." he said lightly. The jibe was all Anakin needed.

"Master," Anakin choked on his own tears, unaware until now that they had been falling, streaming down his face. "Master... What did they _do_ to you?"

He regretted the question immediately, Obi-Wan's eyes again became unfocused. He swayed on his feet, tilting to one side as if he were about to fall. An arm quickly jerked out to grab him, steady him, hold him, _something_, and Obi-Wan shook his head, wincing again against the pain.

"Are you alone, Anakin?" Obi-Wan ground out, his own hand suddenly clutching Anakin. The Padawan could see the whites of his bruised and bloody knuckles; Obi-Wan was holding on to him for dear life, but the grip was pitifully weak. "Did you come by yourself? Or are there others... reinforcements...?"

The question drew a blank at first; Anakin didn't know what his beloved master was talking about. He did recover quickly. "Master Mundi," he replied quickly. "Master Mundi and Jedi Knight Hett are on their way. I can call for more." Anything, he could do _anything_ if it helped his master. He'd call the entire _army_...

Relief washed over Obi-Wan's face but was quickly replaced with more pain. Force, what had _happened_ to him? He opened his eyes from the grimace, his grey gaze locked onto Anakin, still holding him for dear life, as if his Padawan was his only connection to reality. His eyes were in and out of focus, and he pinched them closed again, as if struggling to stay cognizant of his surroundings. "Can you hold?" his voice was hoarse.

"I... what?"

"Can you hold this position? Can you and Alpha hold until the reinforcements arrive?"

Alpha? It was only then that Anakin realized his master was not alone. A clone trooper, and ARC trooper, was also with them. Obi-Wan had not been the only one captured - or tortured for that matter, given the similar state of abuse the trooper seemed to have sustained.

"Sir," Alpha said. "With all due respect, Commander Skywalker and I are all you need."

Obi-Wan didn't seem to hear him; his piercing gaze was locked onto his Padawan.

"Do you need me to help defend ourselves?" he demanded, and the desperation in his voice struck something deep in Anakin's heart, and it broke.

Anakin struggled to put on a light face. "Master, it's _me_, remember?"

The relief that flooded Obi-Wan's face was palpable, even without the bond. His entire body started to sag, as if his greatly reduced weight were too much for his legs to hold him up. He swayed from side to side, but then suddenly that fist on Anakin's arm tightened again, and the Jedi made himself stand firm again, drawing on reserves the Padawan couldn't even imagine.

"The healers..." Obi-Wan started, and his breathing suddenly became ragged and uneven. His eyes were struggling to stay focused through the blood, the pain, through whatever he'd been through. "The healers," he tried again. "When they get here... you have to tell them..."

"Tell them what? Master, I'll do anything you say," Anakin said quickly, unable to completely control the panic cracking through his voice.

"Anakin... you have to tell the healers... about the mask... and about the maggots."

... _Maggots_? Anakin didn't dare think. "Yes, Master. Mask and maggots."

"You'll tell them?" Obi-Wan demanded, his voice actually cracked in desperation.

"I promise, Master. Mask and maggots. I'll call them right now if you want."

Something in Obi-Wan's eyes changed. They lost focus entirely, and underneath him his legs at last buckled. Anakin gave an odd choking sound as he slowly lowered his master's minimal weight to the ground. His master was smiling again, his eyes drifting closed. "I've been so worried about you..."

Anakin choked again, tears streaming down his face.

Abruptly he stood up, rubbing a sleeve over his face. He turned determined eyes to Alpha, and the clone nodded, cocking his blaster and taking off the safety. Anakin spun around and all but ran back to his fighter, powering up communications. He opened up a channel to Master Mundi, the Temple, and all short range Republic frequencies in case there were ships closer.

"Hett, Master Mundi," he said quickly, and then just spoke louder when he heard the start of an infuriated reprisal. "Master Mundi, I've just found my master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He's alive but in need of immediate medical attention."

"... What?"

The question came not only from Ki-Adi-Mundi, but several Council members at the Temple.

"I repeat," Anakin said, shocked that his voice sounded as calm as it did. "I've found Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. He and an ARC trooper named Alpha Seventeen have been recovered, but they both need medical attention - especially Obi-Wan. He specifically said to tell the healers about... about a mask and mag... maggots."

There was a surge of communication after that, but Anakin only stayed on long enough to give coordinates and get at least three promises of a medical frigate being immediately dispatched before he unequivocally told them he'd be with his master if they needed him. He left the channel open to trace and went back to the smoking ship. He didn't recognize the design, and he was suddenly left wondering where in the _galaxy_ his master had been since his disappearance.

A brief exchange with Alpha that help was on the way, and Anakin knelt by his master's head, memorizing every bruise and contusion and scar. He would find the being that did this. He would. And it would be a dark day indeed when that... that... even Anakin's colorful vocabulary didn't have a word to describe what kind of being could do this to his beloved master. Rage boiled in him, and he found he was shaking with it.

It disappeared in a flash, however, when those beautiful eyes opened.

"... Anakin...?"

"Yes, Master. What do you need?" the Padawan said quickly, relief flooding and drowning his rage.

"... I'm dreaming again, aren't I?" he asked slowly, eyes in and out of focus.

"No Master, it's real. I've rescued you like I always do."

His eyes were staring at nothing, blank and frighteningly dead, before Obi-Wan finally looked at his Padawan. "I've been worried about you," he said softly. There was a sudden wince of pain. "I can't feel you through the bond, so I must be very far away... I hope you don't think I'm dead, I don't want to worry you," His eyes opened again, still roving around. "It's very bright here. Are we in the Force?"

Panic was once again threatening to choke Anakin. He fought for every word, every ounce of calm he didn't feel to appear in his voice. "Master, we're not in the Force. We're on a planet called Riflor; it's in the Mid Rim, and it's not bright, it's overcast right now."

Obi-Wan didn't seem to hear him. "I'm so worried about you," he said again. "So many Jedi have already died on Jabiim, and their deaths hurt you so much. I hope you don't think I'm dead, I don't want to worry you. Worse, I don't want _you_ to die..." He drifted off again, and Anakin didn't have a clue what to do. He looked up at Alpha helplessly.

The clone shook his head. "A few times, when we were together, he said that sleep was an escape. I guess maybe he was dreaming."

"And he thinks he's dreaming now?" Anakin asked. Alpha could only shrug his shoulders. Clones didn't dream.

"... You have so much potential..." Obi-Wan's voice snapped Anakin's attention back to his master. "You are already so much greater than I could ever hope to be. Once you've mastered yourself..." he trailed off again, and all Anakin could do was hold his master's bony, weak hand, stroke his hair back, and cry. "... I hope soon that this temporary escape will evolve to a permanent one."

"It _is_ permanent, Master," Anakin whispered, "You and Alpha escaped. You're free, and now that I've rescued you you're going to be just fine. Master Mundi is on his way and-"

"I've been so worried about you..." Obi-Wan started again, but his eyes drifted closed, and he was once again unconscious. A low moan gurgled up in Anakin's throat, and he cupped his master's limp head in his hands, bending down to touch that abused forehead with his. He knelt there for eternity, emotion boiling over him, making him unable to think, to see outside that one small sensation of touch. Nothing else mattered, only the man pressed so gently to his forehead. His entire world was made up of this unassuming, unconscious man; a man who had endured months of abuse and through it all, worried about his Padawan. What had he ever done to deserve that level of devotion? Anakin vowed, over and over, and he would make his master proud, be worthy of such a gift.

That was how Ki-Adi-Mndi and the medical frigate found them.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Er, this is only part two of the drabbles for Jabiim. One of our small changes happens in the aftermath of it, and this is only the first: Obi-Wan, semi-conscious, has an unguarded confession of his pride and his worry for his Padawan. His disconnect with reality is also important. The repercussions of this series of drabbles is going to affect the rest of the fic drastically, and the small steps can now no longer be argued as small but as mid-level steps. If you haven't been seeing the deviation yet, this series of drabbles will definitely point them out.

We know that, because we don't have the Jabiim series, that there are some deviations from what truly happens. Please bear with it. Wookiepedia only has so much for details. We are aware that Valery Scot has a fic that details it, but we didn't know how accurate it was at the time. Alas, some of EU canon was going to have to go eventually.

Next week: Anakin struggles with getting Obi-Wan home. And not in the way you're probably thinking.


	23. Where Bonds Deepen

**Where Bonds Deepen**

The first... nightmare? Flashback? ... occurred when they were en route to Coruscant. When Obi-Wan had finally slipped to true unconsciousness, it was as if his will no longer held all his bodily wounds in check, and Anakin and Alpha watched as a high fever from various infected injuries took over. Anakin was quick to tell the medics - repeatedly - about the "mask and maggots" as his beloved master had instructed, and they were quick to get to work.

The horror only magnified when, as they were lifting off, the medics informed Anakin and Ki-Adi-Mundi that the maggots referred to muscle maggots, creatures that burrowed into and ate muscle tissue. It required surgery to remove them, meaning they had to wait until arrival. When they left, Anakin found himself staring at his master - grimacing even unconscious - and mentally imagining escaping when all major muscle groups were in agony - running through complexes, fighting off bounty hunters. A hand fell on his shoulder and the Padawan startled to see Master Mundi there, offering him sympathy through the Force. The sudden, panic inducing thought of the maggots finding Obi-Wan's heart muscle sent Anakin rushing to a 'fresher and emptying the contents of his stomach, all too suddenly thinking of his attempts to save another heart and failing. He dared not think of what the mask meant - he wasn't sure if he could handle it.

Three hours into hyperspace travel, Anakin was sitting by his master's side, thoughts running in crooked circles. He'd tried meditation, but every time his mind would start to clear he would feel the pain racking through Obi-Wan and he'd be startled out of it. Holding the man's hand seemed to be the only thing that made them both feel better. The fever had soaked his body, and his head twitched back and forth, occasionally moaning. It was then that his breathing suddenly became ragged, uneven. Anakin immediately stood from his stool, thinking perhaps his master was waking.

Grey, fevered eyes snapped open, bleary, unfocused, and oh, so pained. Hands quickly went to his head, and Anakin watched as Obi-Wan started to claw at his face, cracked nails leaving pink trails across it, digging deep enough to start scraping skin.

"Master, Master! It's okay! You're okay!" Anakin cried out, grabbing wrists that were never meant to be so weak and pulling them away from Obi-Wan's head. The Jedi only thrashed his head from side to side.

"Take it off," he moaned, "Take it off!" he said again, more forceful this time.

"Take what off? Master?"

"The mask! Take if off! Please, just take it off!"

Once again panicked and fighting to stay calm, Anakin was shocked at how level his voice sounded as he replied. "Master, there's no mask. You don't have a mask on. You're on a medical frigate bound for-"

"Anakin, _please_, take the mask _off_!" Obi-Wan's voice cracked in desperation, and the Padawan had no idea how to help the master. "It's all muddled... I can't... it _hurts_ to touch the Force... take it off! ... Anakin! ... Master! It _hurts_..."

"Master! Master!" Anakin called out over and over, trying to get Obi-Wan's attention. He was dimly aware of people coming in, surrounding him. His senses were overloaded, the bond was screaming in his head, and all Anakin could think to do was to thrust his hand into Obi-Wan's hair, grabbing a fist of it and tugging - outright pulling. "Master! Do you feel that?" he asked. "Could I do this if you had a mask on?" He let go and grabbed the beard next, raking his hand all over his master's head. Slowly, very slowly, Obi-Wan's fevered eyes cleared slightly, and his gaze seemed to take in Anakin as if for the first time. "I'm here, Master," he whispered.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and was again unconscious. The medic droids quickly ushered Anakin and Master Mundi out of the room.

"What happened?" the Council member asked.

Anakin's retelling brought many pronounced wrinkles on the Cerean Jedi's prominent forehead. He immediately contacted the Council, making the Padawan recall the horrifying events yet again. The hologram of Master Yoda seemed to shrink, his over large eyes slowly closing and his pointed ears twitching down. Mace and others tried to ask questions, but Anakin abruptly said his place was by his master's side and that he didn't like being away from him for so long. Besides which, more pain was flaring along the bond and he didn't want the Council to see him twitch and wince. A tiny corner in his mind told him Obi-Wan would be disappointed, that the best way to help him would be to confer with Masters, but he dismissed the voice out of the hand.

The pain intensified the closer to his master he became. He dutifully ignored it.

The second nightmare occurred much like the first, Obi-Wan reaching to claw at his face and begging that the mask be removed. When he was finally sedated again, the medical droid put him in restraints to prevent further self-injury.

Hett, the Tusken Jedi, came in as they broke hyperspace and began their final approach. Over the last twelve hours Anakin had lost track of the number of fever dreams his master had had. The pain in his own skull was almost unbearable.

"... Is he calm now?" the Tusken asked.

"For now," Anakin mumbled, rubbing his temples. "The sedatives don't seem to last long. No matter how deeply he goes under, somehow he manages to wake up. The things he _talks_ about..." Anakin rubbed his temples harder, fingers working up into his hair, pulling his braid, anything to release the pain he was feeling. He'd lost track of what was his and what was his master's. Maggots eating his muscles, a mask that obscured the Force worse than an inhibitor, the idea of touching the Force bringing pain, childish taunts as bones were broken, knives plunged into the skin, escapes, sick worry about Anakin and Jabiim, torturing Alpha in front of him claiming he would _enjoy_ it. Anakin had heard a garbled but terrifying snapshot of what Obi-Wan's imprisonment was like. But above all was the mask and Obi-Wan's desperate cries that it be removed - so that he could please, _please_ touch the Force without pain. It sickened Anakin.

A hand on his shoulder. "Your master is clearly very strong to have survived this," Hett said.

"... He's always been able to touch the Force," Anakin said slowly, exhausted and not caring if he shared his fears with Hett - the other Jedi already knew his darkest secret and did not judge him for it - indeed forgave him for the bigoted actions he had first expressed to him. It... made him worthy to share his other dark thoughts. Anakin was too tired to care how that thought sounded. "Whatever happened to him, he said the Force hurt. What if the damage is permanent, and he'll never touch it again?" He would feel like a youngling if he told anyone else this; but Hett, like Obi-Wan, just accepted it.

"If that is the case," the Tusken said, "then you will touch the Force for him. You will live on as his legacy, and he will live through you."

The hand withdrew, Hett saying they were getting ready to land before leaving.

* * *

Anakin pressed his forehead against the transparisteel of the observation room, trying to let its coolness seep into him. It was to no avail. He grimly watched the surgery below, the med-bots and Jedi healers working tirelessly to remove the maggots from Obi-Wan. It was gruesome work, lasers and other less invasive methods did not - had not - worked, and they had been forced to cut him open the old fashioned way. The pain in Anakin's head was overwhelming. In frustration he banged his head against the transparisteel, wanting to banish it but unable to.

"Worried for your master, you are."

Anakin said nothing in response. Yoda, too, watched the surgery, utterly impassive. It was the Jedi way, Anakin knew, but the indifference suddenly made him want to stomp the little troll under his boot. Another shot of pain flared along his nerves, and he banged his head again, harder this time.

"Hurt yourself, you should not," Yoda said, still leaning on his stick. "Already in pain, you are."

Anakin moaned, again rubbing his temples.

"The bond between you and your master, strong it is. Help you it will. Help your master, too. Need you he does; strong you must be."

"You think I don't know that?" Anakin demanded, swiveling furious eyes to the ancient Master. He thought he was about to explode. "You think-" but then he stopped as what could only be described as inspiration struck.

Anakin's head snapped back to the surgery below, his mind putting things together. Obi-Wan said he couldn't touch the Force, that it hurt... was that what he was feeling now? Even unconscious, even being operated on, Obi-Wan was trying to touch the Force, but to what extent? Not a healing trance, he kept waking up; and why was _Anakin_ feeling the pain? And that was when the Padawan realized: Obi-Wan, lacking the Force, wanted at least the comfort of his Padawan's mind, a mind he had not been able to feel for months.

_"You will touch the Force for him."_

_ "Strong, your bond is. Help you it will."_

Anakin immediately dropped to his knees and took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax and enter meditation. This would work. It _had_ to work.

Meditation always was hard, but now it was doubly so. Obi-Wan's hurt and pain could not be released to the Force, and with nowhere else to go it was entering Anakin, and so he did as he was taught. He accepted the pain, acknowledging it was his master's body explaining a need, and released it for him. More pain engulfed him, muscles spasming and burning - damage from the maggots. Anakin forced himself to accept the pain and release it. Waves upon waves engulfed him, threatening to overcome him, but Anakin would not be deterred. He had something to do now, a purpose, a goal, and he'd be worse than a womp-rat eating bantha poodoo if he let himself fail in this.

Anakin reached out, wanting to take as much pain from his master as possible. The bond seemed much too narrow for the task, and so without a thought he gouged into it, widening it, deepening it, so that he could get his work done. Even more pain flooded him, this not physical but psychic - words and feelings that lashed at him from a woman's (... a woman?) voice. The pain of touching the Force touched _him_ and Anakin reeled as the work he was doing suddenly became agony - this was no sympathy pain or abstraction. He may have grunted, he wasn't sure, but he again forced himself to accept the pain and siphon it off to the Force. Anything to help his master. Worry for Alpha, worry for Jabiim, worry for _Anakin_, worry for his torturer (?), all of it channeled through Anakin and out, until, finally, he felt the inner core of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

_... Anakin?_

_ Yes, Master. If you dare ask me if this is a dream I'll dye your beard blue._

_ ... You're hurting..._

_ Relax, Master. Everything is going to be fine._

Anakin continued to kneel in the observation room, deep in meditation as he continued to do his work. He did not see Master Yoda's wide-eyed gaze as he witnessed what was happening. But then, few would have, for it only lasted a moment before Yoda himself entered his own meditation.

He had much to consider.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And thus begins the mid-level change. Did anyone see what happened? Yoda did, but I doubt anyone else in the fic fully realizes what's just occurred; at least not yet, but the repercussions of it will be felt for the rest of the fic. Ani and Obi won't quite realize it until later, so until they do we'll keep the mystery (unless it's obvious like we think it is and you all have already figured it out) quiet for a few more chapters.


	24. Where Release is Reciprocated

**Where Release is Reciprocated**

It took a while for Obi-Wan to realize he wasn't dreaming. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell the difference between dreaming and waking; his mind had to do something to protect itself since it couldn't touch the Force and dreams had been its answer. So to find himself in a gurney of the Halls of Healing did not surprise him. At first he simply enjoyed the escape; Anakin was there as he usually was in his dreams. They would talk and then Ventress would do something to wake him and the torture would begin anew.

What made him doubt that this was a dream was how he felt. Even in sleep, the hardness of the floor translated to the dream, as did the injuries. The pain he could never escape from and yet now he felt very little. The gurney was _soft_, he felt himself sink into its depths. There was no ache from the broken bones, no spasms from the maggots eating through his muscle tissue. He felt... good. Or at least, not in pain.

The second thing that made him wonder was Anakin himself. They young man was always awake in his dreams, calmly listening to whatever confession Obi-Wan's mind deemed important at the time. This Anakin, however, was vaguely sitting at the foot of his gurney, splayed out over the bed in sleep and insanely using Obi-Wan's legs as a pillow. Obi-Wan was forced to admit he was too courteous to conjure up such an image.

Tentatively, he twitched his legs, just to see what would happen.

Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't Anakin jolting upright with such force he overbalanced his chair and fell out of his line of sight to the floor. There was an almost melodious sound of varied attempts to get up before Anakin's head crested the edge of the gurney, face tight with tension and worry so deep Obi-Wan could feel it through the bond.

The bond!

This _was_, in fact, reality then. The realization sprung memories in his mind: the burst pipe, the lightsaber on a pedestal, the flight, the fight, and Anakin's tumultuous, overbearing, beautiful presence. Obi-Wan internally smiled. To his Padawan, he put on a stern face.

"Oh come now, surely I don't look _that_ bad," he said in disparaging tones.

Anakin blinked. Repeatedly.

Obi-Wan felt inclined to raise an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that in my absence you've somehow miraculously learned to keep your tongue in check."

Something finally triggered in the young man, Obi-Wan was suddenly overwhelmed with _RELIEF_ that wasn't his flood his mind, and Anakin finally decided to reply: "Don't you _ever_ worry me like that _again_!"

"Oh, yes, the next time an AT-AT decides to blow up from under me I'll be sure to - urk!" Obi-Wan's wit was cut short with a bone-crunching hug from his Padawan. Perhaps a little tentatively, he raised a free hand and patted it on Anakin's back. The relief and gratitude pouring through the bond was warm and comforting and Anakin's positive feelings lulled him back to sleep.

* * *

The next time he woke up, he was quicker to pick out that it wasn't a dream. Bant was there and the Mon Calamori, like Anakin before, crushed him into a hug, gushing platitudes and bits of information like Garen and Siri were coming to see him. Anakin was there, too, and his mirth at Obi-Wan's discomfort rung loud in his ears. It was after several similar experiences that Obi-Wan was able to decide that he had escaped, and the torture with Ventress was now but a dream - a nightmare - that could at last be put to bed.

When Yoda arrived Obi-Wan knew it was time to report on what happened. The aged Master held up a hand at first, instead hopping onto the gurney and sitting at his elbow. "Spoke of a mask, young Skywalker did," he said slowly. "In your fever dreams, figure prominently it did. Caused you great pain. Wish to know what it was, I do."

_"Where is your precious light now, Kenobi? See if you can find it."_

Obi-Wan closed his eyes to the memory, fighting off a shudder. Meditate. He needed to meditate.

"Shouldn't you let him meditate first?" Anakin demanded. "He's been through a horrible experience, shouldn't he have more time to recover?"

That was sweet, but unnecessary. He wasn't a Jedi if he shrank away from the difficult questions.

"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, opening his eyes. The frustration quailed against the bond, and it prickled his brain. "And stop broadcasting your feelings," he added, bringing a hand to his temple. "You're negative emotions are giving me a headache."

Instant worry. Regret. Quiet concern. At least it wasn't as loud. He'd have to work on the boy's shielding. He'd mastered it years ago, why did it need revisiting? Later, _later_. Yoda had asked a question. What was it again? _The mask_, Anakin silently supplied. That earned a glare with a pouting _no eavesdropping_ through the link. To Yoda he turned his gaze.

"Perhaps it would be best if I start at the beginning," he said slowly, "and with another Master present so this can double as my report. Forgive me, Master Yoda, but I'd rather not willingly relive this again unless it's to release it to the Force." Yoda nodded slowly, his eyes shifting back and forth between him and his Padawan. Mace Windu was quickly summoned and Obi-Wan mentally winced at what was to follow.

"Anakin, you don't need to be here for-"

"Yes, Maser, I do." A cocky grin. "You certainly not going to cry on Mace's shoulder."

Why, oh _why_ was it always in front of the _Council_? He glared at his Padawan who glared right back. It was a battle of will over the bond, and Obi-Wan had to admit he just didn't have the strength for it. He felt hollow victory over the bond, and for the first time, he looked at Anakin directly. Bonds shouldn't be able to express feelings that subtle and complicated.

Later, everything was later. Why couldn't he focus?

Sighing, he locked eyes with Mace and Yoda and explained what had been done to him over the last few months. It was grueling. Yoda and Mace asked few questions, only prompting when necessary, but still Obi-Wan had great trouble focusing. A word or thought would send him skittering off to a memory that was all too recent and all too real; phantom pain would cascade over his body and no amount of deep breathing or centering could wash it away. Of all things, he would feel a less-than-subtle tug from Anakin and he would be back on his gurney staring blankly at his Masters. Flushing with embarrassment, he would mutter a soft apology and start again. Frustration at himself mounted, he couldn't understand why focus was so difficult; he was a master of Soresu, a sword style that required deep concentration over extended periods of time. Then a muscle would twitch and he'd be back in his lightless cell with Ventress standing over him, caressing his shrinking muscles before holding a red lightsaber and digging it into his...

Anakin tugged again, and he was once again back in at the Temple.

"Master, you're not ready for this. You should take a rest."

"I'm fine, Anakin," he murmured, rubbing his face. _Force_, why was this so difficult?

Yoda, still sitting at his elbow, placed a tiny, clawed hand on his shoulder. "Hurt you have been, on many levels. To purge these feelings, time it will take. Worry, you should not."

They took it up again, and then the worst of it came: the mask. It was a Sith creation, and as Yoda expressed, this is what they needed the most knowledge on. He tried to describe what it was like, the feeling of the Force being muddy, clouded, filled with stench. Then, too, to describe his trying to touch it, and the pain that electrocuted along his synapses and feelings that it was _dark_, that he was _polluting_ himself, that working on that water pipe felt like he was violating himself, his principals just to _escape_... The memories flooded over him, and even Anakin's insistent tugging could not pull him back from that horrible sensation. The shackles were weighing him down, his muscles were burning fire, fever was threatening to overtake him and still he had to keep going; he had to find Alpha, to get away from this place, to-

"Master!"

Obi-Wan startled, realizing he was dreaming, and shook his head, trying to fight off the memory. Did he touch the dark side in order to escape? Was he tainted, now, too? Irrevocably changed from the light that he so desperately clung to? The Force, would it hurt to use it again? He was too afraid to-

"_Master!_"

A hand slapped across his face and finally, _finally_, he was back to reality. This was reality, right? His thoughts scattered everywhere, and he blinked, trying to remember where he was. Mace and Yoda were here, right? He saw their faces, gauging, assessing. Yes, he had been giving his report. Right? Anakin was there, too, staring at him, shaking his shoulders saying something...

"You're not dark, damn it!" he was hissing. Colorful curses were intermingling his speech. "It was all that stupid krayt dragon poodoo _mask_, it had nothing to do with you! There's nobody else in this nerf-fucking _galaxy_ that is as light as you - even _Yoda!_ And yes, I know he's here and _I don't care_ because _you need to understand_-"

"Enough," Yoda said softly, placing a gentle hand on his Padawan. "Brought him back, you have; need to speak further, you have not." The slits of his overlarge eyes turned to Obi-Wan, the Jedi still confused at what was going on. "Truth, your Padawan speaks. With the light, you still are."

Obi-Wan felt his eyes water. He could not understand why.

"I... I'm sorry, Masters," he mumbled, looking down, suddenly ashamed. "I... It's very hard to focus."

Yoda's course voice sounded soft. "Natural it is, when great pain one suffers. Blame yourself you should not. Time will help." A green hand passed into Obi-Wan's vision, and he watched it be placed on his shoulder, above the firm grip that Anakin still held. The touch... it felt good; it grounded him, he knew this at least was real. He pinched his eyes closed and rubbed them, savoring the moment.

"You have told us more than enough for the time being," Mace said. The imposing Jedi had his arms crossed in front of him, his face as stern and unyielding as ever, but there was a... softness in his voice that suggested compassion. "Your escape has already been reported by Alpha Seventeen and your recovery by young Skywalker. Any further details can be collected at a later date. For now, we will leave you to regain your strength." The tall master turned, his arms loosening to re-clasp behind his back, and he strode out of the room. He paused at the door, though, before turning slightly. "And Master Kenobi," he added.

"Yes?"

"Welcome back."

* * *

When Obi-Wan next woke up it was not of his own volition. He felt something, a pain that he at first thought was all too familiar but very slowly he realized it wasn't his own. The subtleties were different, the triggers similar but not the same. Bleary and still not completely conscious, he opened his eyes to see that it was night at the Temple. City nightlight streamed into the small room, a dull glow that left large shadows that were too similar to the darkness of his cell that he thought perhaps he was dreaming again. Obi-Wan dutifully reminded himself that he really _had_ escaped and that this was real, but the fog of his brain and the surrealism of feeling someone else's pain made him wonder, and finally he gave up and decided it wasn't important. The Force decided that he needed to see it; the hows and wherefores were unimportant.

Dimly, he was aware of sniffling. Blinking slowly, he turned a little on his pillow to see a shadow sitting by him, hunched over itself and shuddering.

Ah, that could only be his Padawan.

"... What's wrong?" he asked, though it seemed to take an eternity to form the question.

Anakin startled, looking up; the dim light highlighted his tear tracks. "Master?" he asked. "They gave you sedatives, why are you awake?"

Sedatives, was that why everything was so hazy? Never mind, not important.

Obi-Wan reached out with a weak hand. Anakin quickly took it. "You're hurting," he said slowly. "What's wrong?"

His tall Padawan made a noise between a sob and a laugh. "It's nothing, Master; you should be focusing on yourself first."

Such selfless words from _Anakin_? It must be serious indeed. Obi-Wan squeezed the hand in his. "I want to help," he said slowly, feeling as if his words might be slurred; he couldn't quite tell.

His bond was flooded with feelings: admiration of his master, love for his master, frustration at stubbornness, stubbornness in it's own right, irritation that he was awake, self-loathing at recent events, and a host of others that Obi-Wan was too tired or too drugged to identify. The last one, however, burrowed into his mind and made him frown. A picture of a Tusken, massaging a heart with the Force, faces of Padawans in the rain. Obi-Wan didn't understand much of it (really, all of it) but he did understand that Anakin had had a rough time without him. Sluggishly - Obi-Wan wasn't sure if it was half a memory or half a dream - he accepted the pain Anakin was feeling and tried to release it to the Force for his Padawan. The youth was too consumed with his emotions to do it, and he wanted to help as he had been helped, though it was a feeling he could not attach a genesis for. The emotions seemed to dilute, because of Anakin or because of himself he wasn't sure. He thought he heard a gasp, and the hand in his suddenly tightened.

"Master, you shouldn't be doing this, you're not recovered enough..."

"Want to help," Obi-Wan murmured, his voice suddenly sounding far away.

More pain: grief over people dying all around him; everyone was dying and he could do nothing to save them. Regret that he wasn't powerful enough to do _anything_ to help. Desperate desire to get stronger so he _could_ help. Obi-Wan channeled it out. A monument to fallen Jedi, blown up wreckage of an AT-AT in a humid jungle, another dying apprentice, whispering names to moths to remember the dead, whispering "Obi-Wan Kenobi" to a moth and understanding that he would never see his master again.

... Never see someone again?

Never see...

"_You will never see your precious Jedi again. Not that old fool Yoda, not Windu, not even your precious Padawan Skywalker. But you can be rest assured that they will all follow you in death. I'll make sure Skywalker is fist. What I do to him will be much worse than what I'm doing to you._"

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open, adrenaline pumping into his system and fighting off the sedatives. Anakin! Where was Anakin? Was Ventress torturing him too?

"Master! Master, she never touched me, I'm right here, I'm fine; I'm fine!" Anakin was hissing in his ear, holding him down. Presence was swirling along the bond, and Obi-Wan sunk into the presence, feeling it, stroking it, hugging it for it meant Anakin was alive and that everything was as it should be and that he would be okay.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his head pressed against the crook of Anakin's neck as the tall young man held him. They both shuddered.

"You can help me all you want," Anakin said softly, "When I know you're well enough to handle it. Not before."

Obi-Wan fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Oh, the drama! The last three chapters have been pretty heavy, even with the shots of humor we've injected we hope it's adequately balanced; the emotions are so heavy there were times I felt a little buried in this chapter; it took almost a week to write because of it. Star Wars is nothing if not a soap opera.

We should probably note that we know nothing of Jabiim or Rattatak or any of the goings on that we're actually talking about. We point guiltily at wookiepedia and cross our fingers that we're doing the original source material credit. Just because we're tweaking here and there doesn't mean that other events don't happen exactly as they were originally meant to, and so we once again hope we're doing okay. Given the extremes that Obi-Wan was put through, it's very (very, very) tempting to just spend chapters and chapters on Obi-angst, going into abject detail of his torture in his flashbacks. We actually feel that this would be a detriment. Why try to describe what's happening when reader imagination can and will be much more creative? And so we decided to only keep it to simple dialogue lines, or phantom pains and what they represent. We hope the effect works.

The repercussions of what Anakin did the previous chapter are already starting to show, though Obi-Wan is too out of it to notice and Anakin probably doesn't even realize what's happening. Poor Obi-Wan, he can never think of himself, can he? We felt it very important that Obi-Wan at least try to mimic what Anakin did (though he's in no shape to do it). It becomes important later as they start to realize what's happened to them.

For those of you commenting about Obi-Wan not being able to touch the Force, that was a simple fear that Anakin had in the overwhelming realization of everything that had Obi-Wan had been through. Obi can touch the Force. There is nothing in the original source material (wookiepedia) to suggest that he couldn't after his terrible time under Ventress.

Some of you have some sharp eyes and have spotted at least part of what happened last chapter that was so important! If you haven't, you'll see as Obi-Wan and Anakin discover things.

Next week: Even stuck in the Halls of Healing and barely able to do anything without help, his Master can _still_ be the most irritating being in the galaxy. At least Anakin gets to see Padme.


	25. Where Repercussions Begin

**Where Repercussions Begin**

"_Go see your wife. You need a break_."

That was the line that currently had Anakin Skywalker, promising Senior Padawan and apprenticed to Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, stomping down the streets of Coruscant in a miserably irritated huff, fit to glare anyone into submission if they got in his way.

His master, Obi-Wan, had been in the Halls of Healing of the Jedi Temple for just over two weeks since Anakin had felt him out in the middle of nowhere and raced off to save him. This after being believed dead for months. Needless to say, after _finally_ getting his master back (his _real_ master. Not Master Mundi or any other member of the Order, because _nobody_ could be his master the way Obi-Wan was...) Anakin had refused to leave his master's side for any reason, save using the refresher or getting changed to a fresh set of clothes.

Obi-Wan _needed_ him. That first week back, Anakin's master had not been able to make the clear delineation between what was real and what was a dream unless Anakin started tugging fiercely at their bond, and even _then_ there were times that Obi-Wan wasn't all there.

This was, of course, understandable, given what he'd been through. From the brief flashes that Anakin had seen and the words Obi-Wan spoke when he wasn't quite aware of things, he'd been through things that no living being in the whole galaxy deserved. And whenever Obi-Wan started to have these flashbacks, Anakin would reach through their training bond and yank all that pain, fear, desperation, worry, heartache, anxiety, uncertainty, etc. out and release it to the Force; because Obi-Wan was having difficulty.

Apparently, much to Anakin's horror, there had been a Mask. A terrible, cruel Sith Mask that had caused Obi-Wan more anguish than any other torturous, traumatic experience he'd been through on Rattatak; so much that his master was almost tentative at times to reach out to the Force and its welcoming calm and healing.

... Unless Obi-Wan thought Anakin was suffering. Then all thoughts on whether or not he could actually touch the Force were forgotten as he tried to do things he didn't really have the strength or balance to do yet, which just made Anakin worry all the more.

Obi-Wan was _family_; the only real family that Anakin had in the entire Order. He tried so hard to help him, but if Obi-Wan thought Anakin was in trouble, he'd come running. It was an instinct of his master's that Anakin really cherished some times, but at moments like this, he wished Obi-Wan had at least a _little_ sense of self-preservation.

Anakin let out a long sigh.

Obi-Wan _was_ doing better. The main reason he was still in the Halls of Healing had to do entirely with the sheer _damage_ that had been done to him. Even after a few dunks in a bacta tank, the damage that the muscle maggots had done was extensive and damn near debilitating. Every day had three separate two-hour sessions with a healer and a Healing Crystal of Fire to repair and reconnect the damaged tissues from the tunnels the maggots had eaten. Master Yoda also came every day, just to help Obi-Wan with releasing the trauma to the Force.

Anakin had taken to meditating with them as well, so that he could help siphon the pain away. He meditated with Obi-Wan regularly after Geonosis, and it felt so _good_ to be able to do so again. He'd missed it. He'd missed the solid, strong, glowing presence of his master in the Force. He _still_ missed it, because Obi-Wan was anything but solid, strong or glowing. Instead he was trembling, weak, and shadowed. So Anakin would do what Obi-Wan did for Anakin whenever Anakin struggled. He would gently pull Obi-Wan through meditations as Yoda guided where to go.

He had _vowed_ he'd be there for his family, especially since he couldn't be there for his mother. And for Obi-Wan to turn and tell him to go away? No way. No way in Correllian _hell_.

But no, Obi-Wan said that Anakin needed a break. A _break_.

"_I'm supposed to take a break when _you_ haven't had a break since Ventress got her claws into you? _No_, Master, I'm staying _right_ here._"

And Obi-Wan was grateful and appreciative. His shields so damaged that Anakin had no trouble at all picking up how his master, his father, his brother, was so infinitely glad that Anakin was _there_ and not a dream.

"_You need me, Obi-Wan. I'm not going anywhere._"

But Obi-Wan, the famed Negotiator that the HoloNet loved to talk about had brought every skill and tactic to bear.

"_You are correct, Anakin. I need you. But you can't help me if you're two seconds from passing out from exhaustion._"

Anakin growled as he continued to stomp down the darkening streets as night fell.

"_I need you. More than I care to admit. But you need the reserves to be there for me. And you've been draining those reserves since you found me_."

Swearing heatedly under his breath, Anakin cast out his senses to make sure the coast was clear.

"_And the best way for you to recharge, though I'd rather not think about _how_, is for you to go see your wife. Relax. Regain your equilibrium. When you come back in the morning, I'll still need you. Now go take a break._"

Why, oh _why_ did Obi-Wan have to make so much sense?

So Anakin was approaching Padme's apartment in quite the huff.

The one bright spot that he focused on as he started to move through shadows was that Padme hadn't heard that Obi-Wan was still alive. The reporters hadn't even known yet and so, to the public at large, Obi-Wan was still presumed dead. This had been decided by Palpatine the moment he'd seen Obi-Wan's condition, the Chancellor saying that the Jedi Knight would not need to be pestered during his recovery. The Council had agreed and was grateful that he would not even mention this to the Senate.

So Anakin took a little heart that he would be visiting his wife, not to cry in her arms again about the loss of his family, but to rejoice that Obi-Wan was alive and would make a full recovery.

A deep breathe. Release frustration. A deep breathe. Anticipate telling Padme the good news.

A grin spread across his face as a security officer for the building walked past. A Force-assisted leap, jump, and flip later, and Anakin had landed on Padme's balcony. A tap at the door and Threepio let him in and greeted him, chattering as he always did.

"Greetings, Master Ani," the golden droid chirped, already taking Anakin's hooded robe. "Mistress Padme is relaxing in her room. Shall I start a dinner for two?"

"That sounds excellent," he replied quietly, hoping to surprise his wife. "Make Padme's favorite. Tonight's a celebration."

Anakin had to admit: as much as he hated leaving Obi-Wan, his heart _had_ lifted when he'd arrived.

"A celebration?"

He didn't respond, grinning as he silently padded down the hall, hearing the HoloNet on as Padme often had on when she was going through itineraries or papers that she didn't particularly want to.

"_Of course, what we _really_ want to know_-" a female reporter was saying as Anakin leaned at the door, "_is what Padawan Skywalker will do to his hair once he's knighted. We all know it can't be much longer till he clips that braid, and all the women that wish to woo him want to know what he'll do. Many Jedi wear their hair long. Will Padawan Skywalker do the same, or will he imitate his late, handsome master, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, and keep a short, neat style? Maybe he'll grow a beard as well, though I personally think his smile is too handsome to be hidden by facial hair._"

"Such drivel," Anakin offered, a cocky grin spread across his face.

Padme looked up, somewhat startled, the datapad in her hand falling to the bed. "Anakin!" she cried out, getting up in a flash and hurtling her arms around him. She was always so glad to see him as he was her. Just feeling her in his arms, safe, and her joy bubbling through the bond he shared with her lifted his heavy heart, turning his grin into a full blown smile.

"Hey, Padme," he whispered into her hair.

Pulling back, she kissed him hard, throwing all her passion, love, and how much she missed him into the kiss. It was like a balm over the lingering headache he'd had since Obi-Wan's return. They stayed like that for some time, kissing fiercely, reacquainting each other with touch and breath.

They had only been married for just over a year, and with all the chaos and horror and wrong that surrounded them in this war, they both savored any chance they got together.

Anakin held her tight, relishing her presence and letting it sooth aches he hadn't even noticed. She sometimes seemed fascinated with touch. She always had his hand or was leaning on his shoulder. Even if they were out on a mission together with other Senators or Jedi around, she would find a way to casually brush against him, even with just a hand. Now her touch was going from a gentle caress to something a little more needy, and Anakin pulled away with a smile.

"Now, now, my angel, we'll miss the dinner Threepio's making."

She pouted, and leaned against him. "I've missed you, Ani," she said softly.

"I know," he replied, squeezing her tightly. "Come on. Let's have a seat and catch up."

They walked arm in arm to her common room and sat on her couch. Anakin was already pulling her feet up to his lap to massage them and she melted into it, sinking into the cushions. "This is the happiest I've seen you in a while," she observed.

Anakin's smile only grew. "I know. And with good reason."

"Don't tell me Master Mundi is sick of you and suggesting you be knighted?"

"Pfft. Please." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he kneaded the heel of his hand into the arch of her foot. "No, I have a _far_ better reason to be smiling right now."

"Oh please share. I could _use_ some good news. Things in the Senate have been awful this week."

Anakin grinned widely. "Oh? I wish to know how much my good news is needed. Tell me, what's been going on while I've been out in the boondocks?"

Padme scowled at him and tried to kick him with the foot he was massaging, though without much force behind it. "You're mean, holding onto this golden nugget of yours till I've filled you in."

"You know you want to rant and rave, angel."

Her bottom lip pushed out in an adorable pout and Anakin _swore_ he just fell in love all over again.

Padme gave him one final glare before launching into just what had been going on while Anakin was fighting in the Outer Rim. Apparently frustration was mounting in the Senate and the democratic process was slowing from a bantha stroll to a slug's slithering crawl. Every vote, no matter what, several systems that were still _in_ the Republic couldn't show up due to having to return to their systems because the war was ravaging their planets and they had to tend to their people. Why, just this week alone, there was a bill that Padme was against on the Senate floor and while there was a decent sized turnout for the vote, almost a thousand systems weren't there for the debate and, thus, were uninformed. So the vote went badly. And this was a continual pattern that seemed to be getting worse and worse.

This was to say nothing of all the new bills in the Senate about how to conduct the war effort that had nothing to do with the _real_ problems that several Senators tried to address like hunger, poverty, piracy, and the normal interplanetary disputes that happened outside of the war. Everything had been muddled and nothing was getting done.

Just that day, Padme's home planet of Naboo had called, urging her to come home about some matter when there was an important vote in two day's time that she needed to be there for. It was all so _frustrating_.

By the time she finished her tale, the two were sitting at the meal Threepio had prepared, sipping some wine. Padme sat back with a huff, finally done recounting the week she had so despised.

"And I _missed_ you," she muttered.

Anakin couldn't stop the soft smile on his face as he reached through the bond he'd made with her to pull some of her frustration and release it to the Force. It was not the easiest task to do, Padme was not Force-sensitive and her natural shielding was delicate. With time, he was sure her mind would let him help without resistance, but for now, especially with how new the bond was and how little it was used, he felt like he was trying to help a youngling with the most basic Force lessons that required a great deal of delicacy.

She didn't even notice what he was doing, but she did react by turning to him with a smile.

Threepio came in with the dessert plates and Padme gave a happy sigh.

"What prompted you to go with my favorites?" she asked, turning to him.

"Master Ani said that tonight was a night of celebration," the protocol droid answered, setting down the plates. "Shall I get you more wine?"

"No, Threepio," Anakin replied. "We'll be fine. Why don't you power down for the night?"

Threepio gave a soft sigh. "Of course, Master Ani. I'm sure I'll be informed of whatever good news you bear at some point, seeing as how I'm not worth being informed now." The golden droid quietly departed.

"So," Padme sipped her wine again. "You've had me ranting and raving all night and holding on to your good news for a couple of hours now." She dipped her head and batted her eyes. "So, Master Skywalker, would you care to share what has you grinning from ear to ear?"

Anakin broke out in another smile, happiness radiating off of him. "It really isn't that much," he said softly. "Obi-Wan is alive."

Padme stared at him for a moment, her face frozen in the sly smile she had been aiming at him. Then the news started to register. Her eyes widened, her smile slacked as her jaw dropped, her head sank forward off of the hand she'd been resting it on.

"What?" Her voice was the faintest whisper.

"Obi-Wan is alive," Anakin repeated just as quietly, joy bubbling up in him and he felt vaguely like just laughing in happiness and excitement. "He's alive and above all he's _home_." Tears were shining in Padme's eyes, but Anakin couldn't see them very well because his vision was getting blurry.

"He's alive," he said again, bringing a hand to his eyes and scrubbing at them as so much emotion suddenly swelled in him. "He's alive; he's alive; he's _alive_..." He gave a chocked sob and Padme's arms were suddenly around him, holding him as he fell apart. He hadn't allowed himself to break since he first felt his master along the bond that had been silent for so long. "He's _alive_," he whispered. Oh stars above, Obi-Wan was _alive_. Anakin had never really allowed himself to believe that his family was dead, but after so many months of _nothing_, hope had shrunken to the tiniest pinprick of light in a sea of dark despair. All the worry, heartache, frustration, sense of loss, everything that had been building during those long months his master was missing, was suddenly battling for his attention along with the sheer _relief_ that Obi-Wan was _alive_ and _safe_ and _home_.

"Oh _Anakin_," Padme breathed in his ear. "I'm so happy for you. And me. And him." He held her tightly, feeling her relief match with his. "When can I see him? Is he okay? Where has he been? What happened?"

He couldn't answer her questions through the sobbing, as emotions were released through breath, tears, and trembling instead of quiet mediation and dedication to the Force. For a long time, they just held each other, feeling overwhelming emotions and letting them just _go_. An emotional storm that was just as needed as a Jedi's meditation or a Senator's tightly controlled appearance for things so strong and so large that hadn't been dealt with except in small bursts.

Finally, with a last sob, Anakin leaned back, rubbing a sleeve over his face and Padme dabbed her eyes with a napkin. He took a deep breath and chuckled. "Yeah, um, what were your questions again?"

His beautiful wife gave a watery laugh, still holding one of his hands. "Start at the beginning, Ani. How did you find Obi-Wan and bring him home?"

Anakin had no problem sharing the story. He tried to explain some of the more ethereal things about the Force, like how the bond that was cold and silent, but still _there_ had suddenly jumped to _focus_, pain, and determination. He glossed over quite a few things, however. Padme knew that war was horror and death and blood. But Anakin himself couldn't repeat some of the things that Obi-Wan had let slip. He hadn't even dealt with it yet, knowing just what sort of horrors his brother/father had gone through. He _couldn't_ deal with it yet, because he needed to focus on helping Obi-Wan deal with it first. Plus, Obi-Wan was a private person. This would be his to share if he wanted to, not Anakin's.

Padme got the gist, however.

"That does it," she said passionately. "I've been thinking of this after some of your horror stories, but this? What poor Obi-Wan has gone through? I'm proposing a bill to the Senate tomorrow to give all our soldiers, Jedi, clone or citizen, extended time off after such harrowing and debilitating battles. They need the time off to recuperate properly." She stalked back to the common room and picked up a datapad, already jotting down notes on what she would say and whom she would seek for support.

Anakin couldn't help but smile as his love for her surged forward yet again. Padme, so very kind and compassionate would fight for those who needed it. Her gentle heart seemed so rare in the galaxy. Every mission that Anakin went out on since he became a Padawan showed some of the worst that the galaxy had to offer. It wasn't that he didn't see good people, but he never saw good people at their best. Padme was the only person he'd ever seen who, even at her worst when facing down the Trade Federation, remained as pure as she was at her best. And she chose _him_ to share her life with.

Anakin was so very lucky.

They talked about Padme's proposal for a while, Anakin offering some stories that both he and some of his troops in the 501st had been through and the time needed for sufficient recovery versus what was really given.

But eventually, a loving squeeze lead to a gentle caress. A caress led to a sweet kiss. Well, they _were_ newlyweds.

Padme lay under Anakin, gorgeous and exposed as Anakin broke off his possessive kiss long enough to smile at her and rub a thumb along her cheek. She gave a pleading whimper and Anakin, as always, sought to make her happy.

Unfortunately, it was during this moment of shared love and happiness that Anakin lost sense of reality.

_A sharp serrated knife was scraped along the bottom of his feet, methodically across, then up an down until the pads of his feet were a grid of bleeding. His chains were taken from the wall and yanked. He stood on his abused feet and walked, head held high. He was pulled from his cell, down the rocky, dirty hallway, to a cavern where a long table was heavily laden down with food._

_ "It's very simple," was the cruel female hiss. "You may eat your fill as long as you stay on your feet."_

_ And suddenly his stomach was growling and reminding him that he hadn't been fed in... how many days was it? Yet there was no choice. So with quiet dignity, he stepped forward, leaving smears of blood on the floor._

"Anakin!"

With a blink, he was back in reality, head somewhere between pounding and exploding, Padme tightly clutching his shoulders. "Anakin! Ani, what's wrong?"

"Padme?" he asked, looking around, surprised to find himself in her apartment instead of that dirty, long hallway that had driven rocks, dirt and grit into the open wounds on his feet. Then he realized what had happened.

"Sith _kriffin_' hells!" he groaned, toppling forward, hands clutching his head. Gasping for breath, he focused inward, reaching along the bond with Obi-Wan, feeling the wisps of the flashbacks that were more powerful than anything he'd gone through since his return. He dug through the flashback, ignoring images of feet being cut open again as soon as Obi-Wan had used the Force to close the wounds, images of hands bearing similar cuts trying to grasp the food that was being offered, until Anakin finally reached the painful core where Obi-Wan was shuddering.

"_Master_," Anakin growled through the bond. "_Snap out of it!_"

Padme's hands on his shoulders tightened and she stopped trying to get his attention, letting him do his Jedi thing that she didn't understand. He was aware of her placing a kiss on his forehead, but that was all as his attention was focused on pulling Obi-Wan away from the flashback and back to reality.

"That's not real, Obi-Wan. You're _safe_ dammit. You wanted me to have a break, and you'd kill me if I had to cut it short and come back, so _wake up_!"

And with a gasp, Anakin felt Obi-Wan jerk back to himself.

_Ahhh, owww._

_ Obi-Wan! You're back!_

_ Anakin? What...?_

_ You were having a flashback._

Frustration. A deep sigh. _I know I said I'd need you in the morning, I certainly wasn't planning _this_ early._

_ Should I-_

No_, my dear Padawan. Stay with Padme. Enjoy yourself._

Anakin sighed.

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid_, Master."

"Ani," Padme leaned over him.

He took a deep breath, trying to still his heart to a more normal heart rate. His head was still pounding, but he raised a hand and cupped his angel's cheek. "He was having a flashback. Horrible, evil, _evil_ bitch. Doesn't even deserve a swift death," he growled, focusing on his breath. In. Out. In Out. "Dragged me through the bond. That bitch. That _bitch_. That _damned bitch_." In. Out. Release it. It was over. Release. "That fucking, kriffing bitch."

Padme leaned forward, kissing him softly. He let her love wash away his anger and almost unquenchable thirst for revenge.

"I had to pull Obi-Wan out of it." He ran a hand through her hair. "That's the first time I've seen more than an image or a feeling."

She leaned forward, putting her head on his chest. "It must have been horrible. You were screaming."

"Was I?"

"Uh-hm. Good thing I've already had the apartment soundproofed for other reasons."

He gave a soft chuckle. "Mind if I just hold you tonight?"

"Anything you need, Ani. Anything at all."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Naughty Anakin! Shame on you for thinking you could enjoy Padme while Obi-Wan's struggling. And shame on Obi-Wan for thinking he could handle it himself! Now, what ARE the odds of a bond being deep enough that Anakin didn't just sense his master emotions and thoughts, but physically saw a flashback? Hm... (whistles innocently) If you still haven't figured out what Ani did, we'll hold off just a little bit more, but it will be mentioned, promise!

Some of you commented on seeing Padme earlier, and while the fic is undoubtedly Ani-Obi bonding, Padme will slowly start getting more scenes as her own role starts to spin in different directions than the movie. (Will she die in childbirth? Haven't decided yet... (We're lying, the fic is already done and written, but we're still not telling:P)) Regardless, we find it worthy of note that Anakin and Padme really ARE newlyweds, and one can only imagine what all those stolen moments were spent doing. Given how rarely they were together with Anakin's deployment, it's a miracle Padme got pregnant at all...

Some more allusions to Obi-Wan's torture, again cut down to the very bare basics. This is the last we'll touch on it for a while, but we will be referencing it again later in the fic (er, really; it's a life-changing experience, Obi's not going to shrug it off that easily. Neither is Anakin, for that matter :P

Next week: Padme pays a sickbed visit.


	26. Where Invitations are Issued

**Where Invitations are Issued**

Padme took a deep breath in the air cab as it parked outside the Jedi Temple. She knew, given how Anakin always seemed to read her like a book, that Jedi could pick up on people's thoughts and feelings. So she focused intently on the primary reason why she was here and the sincerity behind it, rather than the secondary and selfish reason. Gathering herself, she stepped out of the cab, paid her fare and headed in to the public entrance of the Temple.

Inside she was hardly surprised to see several HoloNet reporters. After all, it had been announced earlier that week that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Negotiator and member of The Team was still alive and recuperating. It was all anyone seemed to want to talk about once the news broke. And while the Temple had said no more beyond the announcement, reporters were clamoring.

In front of the gathering reporters, the Gatemaster Jurokk stood quietly, not allowing them entrance, flanked by a pair of Senior Padawans. Not liking the looks of her chances of actually getting in without revealing who she was, Padme stood off to the side, observing. Yes, if she had simply announced that she was Senator Amidala, Jurokk would have no problems with letting her in, but that would also mean that the reporters would know to. What she came here to do was private, something she didn't want to broadcast across the whole galaxy.

So she waited. She debated briefly on calling Anakin to come down and escort her, but the Hero With No Fear would stir up the reporters just as much as she would. And who knew what the reporters might make into rumor seeing her and Anakin together.

Jurokk looked up, away from the reporters, drawing everyone's eyes to an incoming airbus. Once Padme saw it, she couldn't help but smile. When the bus was parked, elementary school children started energetically coming out, screaming in joy and excitement as teachers and volunteering parents gathered them into groups and organizing them.

"You will excuse me," Jurokk stated calmly, bowing to the reporters and making his way over to the children. Kneeling down so that he was at their height, he gave a bright, gentle smile. "Welcome to the Jedi Temple," he greeted them as the children started to gather.

"Wow!" a child exclaimed, tugging at a teacher's sleeve. "Look! Look! A real live Jedi!"

"Greetings. I am Gatemaster Jurokk." His eyes twinkled mischievously as Padme made her way to the teachers and students. "Now, I understand that you are here for a tour?"

The children agreed loudly.

"Excellent!" Jurokk grinned. With an exaggerated look left and right, he leaned forward as if imbuing a great secret. "Could I have all of your help?" he asked conspiratorially.

"Of course!"

"Yes!"

"What do we do?"

"Well," Jurokk glanced at the reporters who were still hovering, "it seems I am currently under siege."

"No way!" a child cried out.

Jurokk nodded. "Yes. Those mean reporters are preventing me from doing my job. And since my job is to let you into the Temple, I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a bind."

Padme glanced at the teachers and parents who were smiling as Jurokk masterfully planned an attack with the children to shoo away the reporters, at least for a little while. A quick glance up at the adults for permission and Jurokk and his little "initiates" were advancing on the reporters, bewildering them as the children cried, screamed and begged the reporters to leave so that Master Jurokk could do his job.

The reporters seemed undaunted for a while, until they started one by one, to go back to their camera camps and speaking to superiors. Padme wasn't sure what had caused it until, out of the corner of her eye, she spied one of the Senior Padawans making a gesture. She couldn't help the small giggle. Anakin often said that the Jedi Mind Trick was extremely useful when dealing with annoyances.

Once the last reporter was back with their crew, discussing unimportant things, Jurokk smiled at the children, kneeling to their level again.

"Wonderful! Just wonderful!" he praised. The children all squealed with delight. "Now, there is one more thing I need your help with."

"Anything!" the children chorused.

"You were all very loud and deliberately misbehaved to help me push the reporters off for a while. Now, you need to do the opposite." His smile softened, becoming more serious. "A Jedi is able to relax here at the Temple. And we Jedi who are home at the moment need a great deal of rest. So while in the Temple, instead of your worst behavior, I need your best. Can you do that for me?"

The children nodded enthusiastically.

"Thank you," he bowed to them. "Now these Padawans will help in getting you all set to enter the Temple. We have a scavenger hunt and a few puzzles as you make your way through. The Jedi guiding you will be down shortly."

The children were all chattering excitedly in quite whispers as they tiptoed up to the Padawans, already trying out their "best behavior".

Padme made her way over to Jurokk after he'd comm'd the tour guide that their students were there.

"Ah," Jurokk greeted, "Milady. I was not aware of a meeting for you today."

She shook her head. "There is no formal meeting," she replied, gesturing to her basket. "But I have some friends that I think could use some tender care."

Jurokk blinked. "Ah, the two saved your planet all those years ago?"

Padme grinned. "I was hoping to surprise them."

"They will be surprised. But I will comm for Padawan Skywalker to come escort you. Go ahead inside, he'll be along shortly."

She gave her thanks, following the elementary students in past the doors as the reporters behind her started to gather in front of Jurokk again. Wishing to remain unobtrusive, she stayed by a massive pillar along the elegant airy entryway. An owl-like Rishii Jedi came for the children and let them gently pet his feathers and ask questions about his species before taking them on their tour.

The Jedi Temple was always a place of wonder for Padme. The halls and architecture were grand, elegant, and in any other place in the galaxy, it would leave a person feeling very small and insignificant with the sheer imposing size. But the Temple felt light and airy. The size didn't make one feel small and insignificant, but humble, a subtle but powerful difference. Humility, after all, was one of the Jedi's core beliefs. But being humbled in the Temple didn't lead one to feeling unworthy, just at peace. Because once humbled, on realized that one's problems were also smaller and more insignificant, which brought great tranquility.

Padme wasn't sure how much of that feeling of tranquility had to due with architecture and design and how much had to do with the hundreds of thousands of Jedi that had graced the Temple with their presence over the millennia.

She was brought out of her musings by a gentle arm wrapping around her shoulders.

"Hey, Padme," Anakin smiled brightly as he swept her into a hug.

Padme squeezed back, communicating how much she had missed him, even though his last visit had been the previous week.

Pulling apart, Anakin offered his arm, ever the gentleman in public, which she graciously took.

"So, I understand you're here to see me and my Master, Senator Amidala."

"Yes," she replied. "I have a surprise for the two of you."

Anakin glanced down at the basket. "I thought any surprise for me would be a little... different," he replied, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively.

She giggled, letting his presence sooth the part of her that always worried whenever he wasn't around, and leaned her head against his shoulder briefly. "How has Obi-Wan been since we last talked?"

Her husband sighed. "About the same. Most of the physical damage has healed, minus some of the damage in his muscles. But he's still struggling with... other things."

Meaning the Force. Anakin had tried to explain it once, but all Padme could understand was that Obi-Wan's difficulty had something to do with fear of either himself or the Force. She always felt bad that she couldn't understand the Force. Apparently it was something that had to be felt to truly be able to explain certain things, despite Anakin's best efforts. She just didn't have that basis to work off of.

They made small talk through the halls of the Temple, looking every bit like old friends catching up. Padme was quite glad she was able to get her husband to laugh at Jar Jar's latest clumsy antics, as he no doubt needed something to laugh at.

They arrived at the apartment and inside Obi-Wan and Master Yoda were both seated, eyes closed, apparently in meditation. Anakin scowled briefly before guiding her to the small kitchen and putting on a kettle.

"Master Yoda says I need to stop helping Obi-Wan in meditation, that he's strong enough to start following Master Yoda on his own." And with the dark undertone of his voice, there was no denying what Anakin thought of that suggestion.

Padme gave a soft chuckle. "He's probably right," she said gently. "Like with physical therapy, you need help to get started and then you need to start doing it on your own."

"I know, it's just..." Anakin trailed off, looking away.

She hugged his arm. "It feels good to be needed," she said. "And Obi-Wan, who is always so strong, has needed you. Now that he's doing things on his own, you're feeling left out."

Her husband let out a long sigh and nodded. "You know me so well, angel."

"Naturally," she replied, rising to her toes to kiss him sweetly on the cheek.

Anakin smiled and poured tea for everyone and caf for himself. He brought the tray to the small table in front of the couch. "Sorry, Padme, but I need to let them know you're here."

"That's perfectly alright," she said. "I know how important meditation is for you Jedi." Anakin gave a small smile before closing his eyes as his face smoothed out. As he sank into the depths of the Force, Padme set down her basket and knelt on the floor with everyone. It felt strange for her to sit on the couch while everyone else was on the floor, and once she was comfortable, she took a moment to really study Obi-Wan.

Anakin had said that his condition had been serious and not much more than that. What had happened to Obi-Wan, she didn't even want to imagine. Her husband would not speak of it. No, it wasn't that he wouldn't, it was that he _couldn't_. Much as Obi-Wan was still dealing with what had happened to him, so was his Padawan. Anakin had already seen some of the worst in the galaxy, both on missions under Obi-Wan and as a slave on Tatooine. But torture was the some of the worst that anyone could offer. And Obi-Wan had gone through it.

One wouldn't know it looking at him. Granted, a Jedi's clothes covered much of the body, but Obi-Wan didn't seem to bear any scars or lingering bruises. No doubt thanks to the wonders of bacta. But there was no denying that he looked sickly. Though his hair was neatly cut and brushed and his beard was as clean clipped as ever, the hair was limp and bore an unhealthy sheen. There were dark circles under his eyes, indicating that sleep was no doubt difficult after everything he'd been through, and his face looked far too thin. Anakin had mentioned that Obi-Wan had needed to be weaned onto food due to how long he'd been without it, and he still bore traces of the starvation. Beyond that, the Jedi Master that always had perfect posture and a quiet grace was slumped in his meditation.

Seeing the strong Obi-Wan, whom she still remembered as the steady Padawan that aided Master Jinn in rescuing her from the Trade Federation, broken down to this brought tears to her eyes.

Anakin had said that it was bad. Seeing how he was now, after just over a month of healing, she could only imagine the terrifying state that her husband had found him in.

Padme took a deep breath, wiped away the tears from her eyes, and took strength in the fact that Obi-Wan was on the mend. Anakin and his large heart would make sure that he was fine, and she would do her part as well.

She blinked when three sets of eyes opened at once.

"Hello," Obi-Wan greeted, some of his slump disappearing as he straightened himself.

"Greetings," Yoda nodded.

"We're honored to have you here," Anakin smiled.

"I'm sorry to have interrupted you," Padme greeted.

"It's perfectly alright," Obi-Wan replied. "A friendly face is always a pleasant surprise. Shall we have a proper seat?"

Padme stood smoothly and tried not to stare as Anakin helped his master up and to the couch.

"Unexpected, this is," Yoda smiled, already reaching for the tea Anakin had prepared, "but most welcome."

Padme smiled. "When I heard that Master Kenobi was alive, I knew I had to drop by."

"I hear you've been busy in the Senate," Obi-Wan replied.

She waved it away. "I'm not here to discuss politics or the war. I'm here because you are my friend." She pulled the basket from the floor to the small table. "I have a gift."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly-" Anakin knuckled Obi-Wan in the ribs. "Er, I thank you very much. You needn't have gone through the bother."

Yoda chuckled quietly.

"Believe me, it was no trouble."

Obi-Wan reached over, pulling the basket closer to himself. Pulling off the cover filled the room with the smell of freshly baked bread.

There was quiet confusion, which Padme half expected. Pulling the basket closer, she pulled out a knife and cut the bread into thick slices, spread a sweet Naboo jam she enjoyed over each slice, and offered one to everyone.

"Consider yourself and Padawan Skywalker invited," she said primly.

"Invited?" Obi-Wan asked, still looking at his slice of bread. "To what?"

Padme gave a soft smile. "Whenever you are on Coruscant, you and your Padawan are invited to dinner at my apartment. I think once a week while you're on planet should work out quite well."

"Senator, I-"

Padme turned to Yoda. "You're welcome to come as well. I know that the Temple is home and offers peace and tranquility, but even here you speak of strategies and war. I offer my apartment as a safe haven where you don't need to speak of such things." She turned back to her husband and Obi-Wan. "Shall I expect you, say, three days from now?"

Yoda let out a laugh, leaning back with a large smile as Obi-Wan still looked dumbfounded and Anakin looked caught between laughing and gratitude.

"A good friend of the Jedi, you are," Yoda smiled, his wrinkles folding over themselves. "Yes. A good friend, hmmm." The old master took a bite of his slice of bread and nodded to himself. "Decline, I must, for many duties a Council member has. Away I shall be, as of tomorrow." Taking another bite, Yoda easily slid off the chair he was in. "Come again later, I will," he said to Obi-Wan. "Work more, we shall."

"Of course, Master," Obi-Wan bowed his head, as did Anakin.

With Yoda gone, Anakin shifted his seat and Padme eagerly leaned into his side, grateful that they had nothing to hide with Obi-Wan in the room.

"Sometimes," Anakin said, sipping his caf, "I think I don't deserve you. You're so kind."

Padme playfully swatted at her husband. "Don't go putting me on a pedestal," she said.

Obi-Wan chuckled, then sipped his tea. "I thank you, Padme. As much as the Temple is home, I think going out just for the sake of a good time instead of another mission would be a good thing indeed."

"It's why I invited you." She shyly looked away. "And I admit, it's a chance to see Anakin without secrecy."

Her husband squeezed her shoulders. "Sorry about this. I know you don't like secrets."

"I understand it. And once this war is over, I think we can start telling people."

"I still believe a member of the Council should know," Obi-Wan said, "but I understand your reasons and it really isn't my place to say."

Anakin shifted the topic of conversation. "So, Padme, how much time do you have?" he asked with a certain look on his face.

"Ah, shall I be going then?" Obi-Wan added delicately.

Padme laughed. "I knew that men tended to have minds in the gutter, but I didn't expect that of _you_, Obi-Wan!"

The elder Jedi blushed as Anakin laughed uproariously. "Master! The look on your face!"

Padme elbowed her husband. "Now, now, Ani, don't go teasing your master when he's having his tea."

"Yes, angel," he chuckled.

Obi-Wan said nothing, merely taking another sip of his tea.

"Now as to your question," Padme said, glancing at her chrono, "I don't have as much time as I like. I have a meeting with Bail Organa in an hour. Of course I _will_ be seeing you for dinner in three days." There was no denying the underlying _You'll be there or I'll come after you_.

Anakin stood. "Shall we walk you out then, milady?" he said, offering an arm.

"That would be very nice," she replied, standing and taking it.

Obi-Wan stood as well. "It's about time for my walk anyway."

The smile slid off of Padme's face. A walk. No doubt to help build strength back up because he was so very thin. A reminder of the horrible time he'd endured, no matter how casual the reference was. Anakin squeezed her arm and she put her smile back on. She rather hoped they ran into the elementary children on their way back down. Perhaps that would help with Obi-Wan's somber appearance.

They made their way out of the apartment, heading back down to the public entrance to the Temple. They made small talk, greeting other Jedi as they passed. Many looked with great sympathy at Obi-Wan, and her husband and his master ignored it.

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan suddenly turned to the pair. "What are you planning?"

"Who, me, Master?"

"Yes, _you_, my sneaky Padawan. You're up to something. I can feel it."

Padme blinked, wondering what was going on that she was missing.

Anakin mumbled some curses. "I thought I was blocking better than that," he mumbled. "It's nothing, Master. Everything's fine."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, a hand coming up to his beard. "You're going to spring something when we get to the public entrance."

There was no doubt. Padme looked between them. They normally didn't speak of their bond in front of her, knowing that she didn't always understand it.

Her husband shrugged. "Padme gave me the idea."

"I did?" she asked. "Idea for what?"

Anakin just _grinned_. "I guess we'll all have to see when we get there."

Obi-Wan let out a half-groan, half-sigh. "Anakin..." He sighed again. "Come, milady. Let's get it over with."

"You make it sound like what I'm planning is a bad thing," Anakin scowled lightly.

"It usually turns out that way," Obi-Wan replied with a grin. "Remember the stove?"

"Master, I was _trying_ to-"

"No matter the good intentions, it _did_ blow up."

Padme let out a surprised gasp, before falling into giggles. Turning to her husband, she put on her best straight face and said, "I'll be sure to never let you near the stove."

He pouted.

Obi-Wan chuckled, and Padme was glad to hear that he still _could_ after everything that he had gone through. That meant that he was healing.

They continued through the humbling halls, Obi-Wan more weary, until Anakin took a sharp turn in a different direction.

"And where, my plotting Padawan, are you taking us?" Obi-Wan rubbed his beard.

"You'll see."

Padme stiffened, suddenly wondering if this had anything to do with the elementary children she'd seen when she'd arrived. She glanced up at her husband, catching his eye as he looked down to her, and then he winked with the barest of nods.

Smiling, Padme cast a glance at Obi-Wan. This would indeed be interesting.

Naturally, it was the children who spotted them first.

"Look! Look! It's Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker!" one of the girls shrieked, which turned all heads and suddenly a small stampede of younglings was heading right for them. Padme stepped aside as the children cheered and excitedly started asking questions of the two that the media was starting to call The Team.

The chaperones and the Rishii came over, trying to contain the children, but with little luck.

"Is it true? Is it true? That you were really dead?"

"Did you have to fight through Grievous and Dooku to rescue Master Kenobi?"

"Where were you when everyone thought you were dead?"

"Did you know all along that Master Kenobi was alive?"

"Did you get the bad guys that hurt you?"

"What's the Force?"

"Can you show me your lightsaber?"

"Do you know the answer to this riddle? I'm stumped!"

And the onslaught of questions continued. Finally, Obi-Wan tilted his head back and laughed. Oddly enough, _this_ was enough to silence the children. With a grin, he gestured and they followed him away from the main thoroughfare of the hallway and he sat on the floor, leaning back to the wall. Anakin sat beside him, a wide grin on his face.

The younglings needed no cue and all sat around him in a circle.

"Now," he said, eyes sparkling. "All these questions cannot be answered at once. Indeed, some of them can't be answered at all."

"But," Anakin continued, "we can tell you a story. One with adventure. One with family."

Padme knelt down with the children along with the other chaperones.

"Now," Obi-Wan lowered his voice, "the tale of which we speak is from over a thousand years ago..."

And for the next half hour, Padme couldn't stop smiling as Obi-Wan and Anakin became storytellers of the finest order. They kept the younglings completely enthralled and wherever Anakin paused or Obi-Wan stopped, the other picked up seamlessly. The children, who had started off pelting the two with questions about the story were soon silent in awe as the tale unfolded before them. Obi-Wan would occasionally make sound-effects and Anakin could put on the best voices for the characters. The story, though brief, was epic and masterfully told.

By the end, the younglings were cheering along with the heroine of the tale, animatedly starting to whisper and chatter about the plot and what they would have done and so on and so forth.

Anakin stood, helping his master off the floor, but the children didn't notice as they continued to discuss.

The Rishii Jedi gave a hoot and the children quieted, turning to him. "Now, what should you say to Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker?"

All the younglings turned and bowed, chorusing "Thank you!" A young Whipid ran forward and wrapped himself around Obi-Wan's leg. Not to be outdone, a small Bothan ran forward to hug Anakin's leg. There was a brief cry of indignation and two Human younglings grabbed the free legs available. Thus started a small tidal wave of younglings running forward to hug The Team. Both strong Jedi were soon overcome as the elementary children clambered over themselves to get a hug.

Padme couldn't help but laugh as her husband and his master were buried under younglings. Looking at Anakin as he played with them, gently setting them down with the Force and smiling at each one, she couldn't help but look to a future were the two of them would have children of their own one day. He would be an excellent father; she had no doubt of that. And Obi-Wan would be a beloved uncle, as he was just as good with the younglings as her husband was.

The Rishii Jedi gave another hoot, getting the younglings attention. With a few flaps of his wings, the Rishii was in the air. "Now, younglings, let's see which of you can keep up with a Jedi, yes? I'll meet you at the next monument!"

The children screamed with delight and took off the owl-like Jedi who flew down the hall, pausing at a corner before taking off again, the children laughing and racing to keep up.

The parents and teachers gave brief apologies to Obi-Wan and Anakin before taking off after their charges.

"Well, that was a pleasant diversion," Anakin said, running a hand through his hair.

"Indeed it was," replied Obi-Wan quietly, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "'Hugs can save the galaxy,' indeed."

Anakin glanced at Padme, and winked. Smiling, she winked back. It was nice to see some of that old spark of Obi-Wan back. Granted, Padme couldn't imagine what Obi-Wan had been like a month ago when her husband found him, but seeing him able to smile and laugh with younglings was very heartening. And not only was that good for Obi-Wan, it was good for Anakin as well, because Anakin had been almost sick with grief and then worry.

Really, it was amazing how much the two depended on each other and needed each other. Especially since the Clone Wars had started. There were times she wondered if it was a side-effect of the Force, but other Master-Padawan teams she'd seen didn't seem to rely on the other quite so much. Perhaps it was just because Anakin took strength in the people around him, rather than just himself, contrary to the air he had around him.

Either way, Anakin was a precious being, one she was glad to be able to call her husband.

"Milady?" Anakin offered his arm again.

"Thank you," she replied, squeezing his arm.

"Let's see you off," Obi-Wan came to her other side and they walked together.

"Of course. I expect to see you for dinner this week and every time you're on-planet during this horrible war."

"Who are we to deny you, Senator?" Anakin glanced around, leaned forward, and kissed her cheek. "You'll be seeing us."

Padme nodded. "Padawan Skywalker, make sure you send me a list of Obi-Wan's favorite dishes so that I can have a good Welcome Home feast for him."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You really needn't go through the bother..."

"I shall send it to you once we're back at our quarters."

"Oh, come now, I'm not worth so much effo-"

"Excellent. If there are any restrictions from the healer's could you attach that as well?"

"Not a problem."

"Neither of you are listening to me."

"Great. Now, what types of holovids does Master Kenobi like?"

"Boring ones, naturally."

"Anakin, I-"

"I'll be sure to pick up a variety then."

"You are too kind, angel."

Obi-Wan sighed.

**Author's Notes**: No, there's nothing in the Expanded Universe about the Temple giving tours, but, like any other massive historical structure, we'd imagine that they must. And, like Buckingham Palace or the White House, only certain areas are shown. We'd imagine that most Jedi don't run across tour groups all that much as they go about their daily lives. That would be disruptive. Similarly, as a member of the Senate, we'd imagine that Padme has occasionally been at the Temple for meetings, though meetings with Jedi were probably more likely to happen at the Senate Building.

Also, the story Obi-Wan and Anakin tell is completely made up. After a brief search on wookiepedia for a good story of ancient Jedi to tell, it was too vast a pool to jump into. Alas. Thus the two are completely making it up as they go, using the bond in a new and inventive way to share plot-points and such.

Next week: A return to battle. Things will naturally BOOM!


	27. Where Skies Burn

**Where Skies Burn**

They were battling on a gaseous planet. It wasn't inhabitable by the vast majority of the galaxy aside from the creatures that evolution created and flew about the noxious gases. What made the planet so important, however, were the high quantities of minerals that flitted about in its clouds, particularly the minerals necessary for powering ion engines.

Which of course was why the Separatists were trying to take over the mineral mines floating over the atmosphere.

Obi-Wan was flying around in his Delta, engaging in many a dogfight with vulture droids as they swerved left, right, and center trying to demolish his squadron. The battle was spread out across an entire hemisphere, in upper atmosphere and in orbit around the planet itself. Anakin was at the other end of the planet, having his own problems if the occasional static swearing was any indication.

"Arfour, are they still jamming our communications?" he asked, barrel rolling to one side as a vulture droid fired some kind of missile at his small craft. The series of whistles and beeps belched into his ears and he saw the translated affirmative on his screen. He pulled up into a tight loop before aiming and firing at the droid that had just shot at him.

"Anakin, have you had any luck contacting Cody?" he asked. A clone flew in front of his field of vision, one wing smoking as three vulture droids followed in tight pursuit. Obi-Wan broke off to help.

There was a garble of static along the line that couldn't be interpreted, but somehow Obi-Wan knew that the answer was a resounding, "Corellian hells, _no!_" He could also feel, without any focus, that Anakin was locked deep in the Force and running on pure adrenaline, performing astonishing feats in his Azure Angel. Obi-Wan didn't need a bond to know that his Padawan was feeling that, but he was more than surprised that he could _sense_ it in the bond. They were both so focused on their respective fights that neither of them should feel anything of the other, and yet since Obi-Wan's return from... medical leave (was it really a scant four months ago?) he could sense Anakin on a level and with an accuracy that he had never felt before - even with Qui-Gon. He could hear Anakin's thoughts more often than not, as he was certain Anakin could hear his. His understanding of Anakin's emotions was now ridiculously acute, subtle nuances suddenly perfectly clear. Neither had talked about it as yet, and both knew it was because neither knew how to broach the subject.

The Force sang in his head, and Obi-Wan was suddenly pitching his craft down into a cloud bank, effectively disappearing from scanners before coming up again well behind the droids that were nipping at the clone's tail; lining them up in his sights and firing direct hits. They exploded and fell harmlessly towards the terrain of the planet, several dozen miles below.

Once he realigned his fighter to something resembling upright, he scanned the immediate battlefield. The vulture droids were swarming around the smaller numbers of the clones, but numbers meant little when dealing with intelligence. The clones were excellent pilots, as Jango Fett was, and there seemed to be a consistent stacking of droid wrecks to trooper wrecks. What caught his eyes, though, was one of the Federation Cruisers swooping down from space to the thermosphere where Obi-Wan's battle was being engaged. Most of the cruisers were in orbit around the planet firing at each other while the smaller shuttles and one-man craft were down where Obi-Wan was to protect the floating mining sites. Why would one swoop down like this?

And... why were they firing some kind of gas into the air?

"I have a bad feeling about this..." Obi-Wan muttered as he quickly jerked his steering yolk up to gain as much altitude as possible, he wanted to get a closer look at what the cruiser was doing. Though it was futile, he tried to hail the Republic cruisers again.

"Admiral Block, if you can hear me, one of the Separatist cruisers is down here spraying some kind of chemical into the atmosphere. Can your scanners identify what they're doing? Arfour, can't you do _anything_ about the communications jam?"

Obi-Wan suddenly felt Anakin's presence in his mind. _What's happening?_ Obi-Wan frowned that his Padawan had picked up on his discontent. Just what was happening to the bond? He ignored it in favor of his bad feeling, explaining what he was seeing.

_What color is it?_ Anakin asked.

_Mostly green, but its dissolving very quickly,_ Obi-Wan thought back, again wondering how they were able to have such a detailed mental conversation in the Force when they were literally half a world away. At best they should only get feelings, impressions, but this abundance of detail was somehow the new standard. On a lark, Obi-Wan sent a picture of what he was seeing across the bond, curious if Anakin could see it as he dodged the fire of more vulture droids.

He could feel Anakin's curiosity, something analyzing on a level that was too deep for Obi-Wan to sense (and at this point that actually surprised him) before he felt adrenaline jolt through Anakin. _Up, up! Everybody up!_ The static across the channel was too garbled to understand, but Obi-Wan knew urgency when he felt it.

"Up! All squadrons into orbit! No exceptions!" He fired his thrusters and arced his Delta almost straight up; having already been rising in altitude he had a fair start over the clones. The dog fighting quickly dissipated, fighters breaking off in their rush to get to higher altitudes, some taking potshots as they went.

One fighter hit its mark, and the vulture droid exploded in a giant fireball, that turned into another, and another...

Obi-Wan gasped as he realized what was happening: the green chemical, in combination with the natural gases of the planet that were harvested, created an atmospheric fuel tank. One explosion was all that was needed to trigger an ion reaction and suddenly the entire atmosphere was on fire, triggering other explosions. Over half his troops were still trying to evacuate, and soon Obi-Wan was assaulted with the giant _wrench_ of many people dying.

He fought to accept the losses as quickly as he could - mass murder like this was always hard to swallow for him - but he managed it and rose to the exosphere. Other Deltas and Y-wings were doing the same; the chatter on the line was loud and garbled as troopers tried to contact one another only to find staunch arrays of static because of the jamming. Obi-Wan risked a glance down to see the sky on fire, the chain reactions spreading out several miles in every direction.

_Master, you okay?_

Obi-Wan blinked, looking around, but Anakin was still nowhere in sight.

_Fine. Where are you?_

_ Still on the dark side of the planet, no casualties over here._

Obi-Wan couldn't say the same, and either Anakin interpreted the silence or he felt the grim acceptance of loss. _I'm coming_, he said in grim determination.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Anakin, stay where you are; you won't do any more good here than there."

Spinning his head around, he saw that he'd lost about half his troops, but others were coming in from other divisions around the planet. He would be fine; they would be fine. He spied another Separatist ship lowering into the atmosphere, and saw that many squads were still in the atmosphere because they hadn't heard the warning through the communications jam. He opened up a channel and hoped that someone could make sense of the orders he was about to give.

"If anyone can hear me, that cruiser is about to spray more gas into the atmosphere. Form up on me and we'll try to distract it. Anakin, go back up to orbit and tell Admiral Block or Cody of _someone_ what they're doing so they can send someone down here for help."

The sudden eruption of static implied that several clones heard him, and the explosion of irritation in his head told him that Anakin _most certainly_ heard him. Half a planet away and the Jedi could still feel the discontent. He focused on the bond. _Anakin it's a mess over here. You aren't as engaged so you should have better luck, especially without the sun to draw attention to you. Just follow orders_.

Obi-Wan received a picture of a rude gesture and a faint sense of acquiescence. He allowed himself to roll his eyes at the first, but frown at the second. He _shouldn't_ have felt that tiny feeling. A vulture droid fired on him from behind and he was left once again putting it off until a later date; say, perhaps when droids weren't shooting at him.

This was why he hated flying.

A haphazard squad formed up behind him and he flew towards the cruiser, trying to gauge how long it would take before they were noticed and they would open fire. The Federation ship didn't have the Republic cruisers bearing down on it, though, like it would have had it stayed in orbit, and so it wasn't long before its lasers and tubrolasers started aiming on Obi-Wan and his squad. Just because Obi-Wan didn't like flying didn't mean he wasn't good at it, he'd spent most of his preteens with planes hanging from his ceiling and many hours in flight simulators.

He sank into the Force so deeply that only a tiny corner of his mind was left to identify himself as Obi-Wan Kenobi. A brief nudge here or a sharp jolt there were all he needed to guide his craft, his arm almost having a mind of its own as he swung around the laser blasts and proton torpedoes that followed him. His voice gave out orders that he hardly heard himself, and it wasn't long before he and most of his fighters were skimming the surface of the giant cruiser. Looking at his scanners, he found he'd only lost three troopers. He closed his eyes and thanked them for their sacrifice.

Taking a deep breath, he started looking around. "Arfour, see if you can isolate where those gas emitters are so we can take them out."

A petulant series of whistles squawked into his ears.

"What do you mean it could be anywhere?" he asked.

This time the beeps seemed downright impatient.

"No, I'd rather _not_ wait for the enemy to do this again so you can trace it," Obi-Wan replied to his droid, "With the communications being jammed we can't warn the other fighters in the atmosphere. Can't your scanners pick up anything?"

The resounding beep sounded almost vulgar.

Sighing, Obi-Wan contacted his squad. "Does anyone see where the gas may have come from?"

One clone was able to garble across the static. "Sir, -t's lik-ly tha- it -ame from th- ex-aust por-s."

"Right," Obi-Wan replied, rubbing his beard and glad that short-range communications seemed to work. Sort of. "Keep your eyes open. Let's try to find the source before they fire that green gas again. While we're at it, let's see if we can't distract them from firing again."

"Yes, s-r!"

The squad broke up and fanned out against the hull of the giant ship. R4 was technically right, the gas could have been expelled from anywhere: exhaust ports, ventilation ducts, or even the main hangar through pressurized hoses of some sort. They may really have to wait for another firing, but Obi-Wan didn't particularly want that to happen. So he swung his small Delta around and started banking towards a line of turbolasers, taking deliberate aim before firing. It exploded in one great fireball, the shockwave shaking Obi-Wan's Delta and rattling his cage.

It also made him a priority target, and Arfour was squawking in his ear as he performed a series of Force-guided barrel rolls and a staunch ninety degree turn on his y-axis, suddenly diving towards the planet and away from the lasers that were bound and determined to roast him. Eyes still scanning the area, he hugged the surface of the cruiser, eyeing any new structure or protrusion as he curved around the body of the Federation ship. He also noted that the Federation ship was much lower, deep into the thermosphere. He could make out individual ships in the dogfight beyond him. That meant they were nearly ready for release.

"Contact!" a trooper shouted over the comm.

"Where are you?" Obi-Wan called out, turning now on his x-axis and flying parallel to the cruiser.

"Und-er belly of th- ship! Looks -ike-" But the transmission was cut off with a sharp staccato of static.

"Form back up!" Obi-Wan ordered to the other fighters. "Form up and join me under the ship. While you're at it transmit on all frequencies; we need to let the troops down there know what's going to happen!"

"Mast-r, why don'- you j-st stop t-em?"

No. He didn't just hear that. He did _not_ just hear his _Padawan_ disobey orders _again_ and come and join him in the skirmish.

Then, clear as crystal: _You know, if you're so curious about this bond then maybe we should just experiment on it sometime._

Obi-Wan never before had such a desire to borrow from Anakin's vocabulary.

"Anakin, _what are you doing here_?" he demanded even as he finally crested the bottom of the Federation cruiser and started surveying the structure for what the recently departed clone had discovered. Lasers were firing at him from all sides, now; the added security clearly indicating he was at the right place. He ducked into a natural alley of the hull, temporarily safe from fire, before coming up again and launching his own assault, firing at a laser station and bursting through the resulting explosion.

_I'm here to help, Master_, was Anakin's glib reply. Obi-Wan very nearly put his head in his hands - would have, if he wasn't so busy trying to stay alive. He could see the pressurized mounts now, just at the edge of his sensors. He banked left looking for a roundabout way to get in close.

To his Padawan, he sent: _If you want to help, then FOLLOW ORDERS! And now isn't the time to talk about whatever is happening to the training bond._

_ Then maybe you should stop marveling at it whenever you have a free second to think_, Anakin sent back. _It's awfully distracting when you're managing a hemisphere-wide battle in your head!_

Obi-Wan quietly - _very_ quietly - admitted defeat. Anakin was here, and he wasn't going to just go away, no matter his objections and wishes. Sighing, he tried to figure out what to do with him now that he was here.

_I already have a plan, Master,_ Anakin responded to his thoughts. _Once I win this battle for you we can go back to the ship and meditate together and see just how deep this bond goes. I kind of like the extended range we have; it's really reassuring to know you're not getting into trouble when I'm not around to look after you by all the background noise you send my way, so I'm really curious to see what else we can do._

"That wasn't what I meant, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, trying and failing not to sound frustrated at his Padawan's smug tone.

_Oh, you mean taking down this ship? I'm already on it._

... And what did _that_ mean?

_It means I have the bridge in my sights and am about to blow it up_. Anakin even sent a mental picture of what he was seeing to Obi-Wan.

In the span of an eye blink, Obi-Wan realized what would happen if Anakin's bold plan came to fruition. Without the bridge, without the _command center_, the droids on the ship would carry out orders without thought of consequence. That meant they would release the gas regardless of the fact that the bridge was one giant fireball, and the resulting chain reaction would not only blow up the entire ship but also completely level the entire quartersphere of the planet - clone and droid alike - to Force knew what level of expansion.

In the next eye blink, he reached out into the bond with everything that he was, reaching on a level he'd never dared think possible, and yanked at the mind on the other end.

"_Anakin, stop!_"

He saw and felt Anakin jerk to one side, his shots going wild, lasers and turbolasers chasing after him, a swarm of vulture droids emerging from somewhere and giving chase, and then Obi-Wan was back in his own Delta, watching as the green chemical was being released into the air and dissipating, waiting for only one shot to be true and to set the sky on fire. The Jedi couldn't fire now, it would be a dread repeat of what Anakin had just been attempting, and he sighed deeply, feeling hollow as he watched the clouds a dozen miles below him erupt in a burgeoning fireball, death pounding on his mind.

Then, he was assaulted with fury. _Master! Why did you STOP me?_

Anakin's anger crackled through Obi-Wan's nerves, and he put a hand up to his forehead to stall the headache. Suddenly acutely tired, he sent his predictions to Anakin through the bond. The bond now felt narrow, constricted, because of all the pulsing anger had insulated it, and Obi-Wan wondered if his thoughts even penetrated his Padawan's mind. Anakin's feelings didn't dissipate, though, and he knew that he was going to get yelled at when they got back.

He tried to tune out the yelling he was already receiving in his own mind, sinking himself into the Force and trying to go back to directing the battle, leaving only one corner of himself as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

They still had a battle to fight, after all.

**Author's Note**: And thus, Ani and Obi start figuring out that their bond isn't quite normal anymore. For those still a little lost, allow us a moment to backtrack. Waaaay back near the beginning of this arc, Obi-Wan and Anakin shared a bizarre meditation where they sank into the Force together as equals instead of as Master/Padawan. Indeed, they've kept doing so repeatedly and stray thoughts started filtering between both of their shields to the other's mind. Then this little think called Jabiim and Rattatak happened where Anakin, desperate to help his master, reached through the bond to grab Obi-Wan's pain and let it dissipate to the Force. Since the bond wasn't big enough, Anakin deliberately gouged at it to make the work easier. Then, Obi-Wan in a haze wakes up feeling Anakin's own pain after such worry and grief and imitates Anakin in reaching through the bond to release Anakin's pain to the Force.

And now, the bond, which has been the strongest in the Order's history and is shown in any EU book to be incredibly strong, has been taken to exponential potential. One can't help but wonder when the bond will stop growing.

And we haven't even gotten to Episode 3 yet. *omniscient laughter*

As for the chapter itself. This was one of the last chapters written and was very out of sequence with everything else we'd been doing. (This whole fic is out of sequence. It's a wonder any of it makes sense.) What needed to be done for this chapter (ie, how the bond looks) was known. HOW wasn't and was very difficult to do. Since almost all of our fights were based on the ground, when the idea of a dogfight came up, things finally clicked.

That said, dogfights are hard to visualize in words since there are three axis of rotation and how do you keep track of it? And so there were constant points of reference to points in space. The hemisphere, the stratospheres, the Federation ship, and still we're not sure it all comes out right.

Next week: Best summed up by the following image: http :/ mirrorandimage . deviantart . com / gallery / ?offset = 24 #/ d34x2eo


	28. Where Bonds Deepen Further

**Where Bonds Deepen Further**

Dinner had been a tense affair. Padme had tried to poke and prod at what had occurred - what catastrophe the HoloNet didn't air - that had caused her beloved husband to be so at odds around Obi-Wan. To her knowledge, the pair had been on separate missions for the last few weeks and the two were perfectly cordial before they left, so she couldn't imagine how they could have become so tense.

Perhaps it had something to do with the bond. Anakin had been telling her that it had somehow become very strong. They could feel each other even though sometimes they were systems apart.

Padme tried to understand what he was talking about at those times. Anakin was always incredibly understanding to the fact that she knew very little about the Jedi ways other than the incredible feats that they could perform when the need called for it. He was always very frank - sometimes perhaps even too open, she feared - in explaining the inner workings of the Force. One affected the Force through one's mind - their will, and so Padawans, when chosen by a Master, would be given a training bond - a link between the two minds - so that the teacher could better instruct the student. Padme couldn't even imagine having another mind inside hers, and Ani often smiled at that comment, saying he never had his mind entirely to himself. Even as a child he'd had a bond with his mother. It was when Padme thought about it like that - her closeness to her sister and her sister's children, that she thought she could picture what the bond would look like.

She'd once asked Anakin if it was possible to bond with someone who wasn't Force-sensitive. He'd grinned slyly at the question and then kissed her thoroughly... amongst other things... and later told her yes; and yes he had a bond with her. Ever thoughtful, he'd dropped by a few days later and gave her some data chips on bonds from the Jedi Temple. Padme had been shocked, thinking it would be forbidden for her to read it.

"It can't be forbidden," Anakin had explained with a wide grin. "I am a Jedi after all, and it is my duty to help people in whatever way I see fit."

Typical Anakin logic. She could never deny his sincerity in wanting her to be happy, and she took the chips.

Padme sometimes thought she could sense the bond between her and Anakin. Often in moments of fierce debate with other politicians or intense danger, when her mind would irrationally (or rationally, depending on one's point of view) wish for her husband to be with her, she would suddenly feel his powerful arms around her, or breathe the scent of his hair, or even just feel his love, deep and overwhelming. More likely it was the some neuro-chemical response in her brain, satisfying her need. But she liked to think it was the bond, and Anakin often encouraged her, saying usage made it stronger. He often told her to reach out in more peaceful times, just send her thoughts to him and he would hear her. She had tried a time or two, but in the end she felt foolish for thinking so loudly with no return on the investment. Anakin laughed and said it would take time.

Now, though, standing in the kitchen of her apartment refilling tea and caf, hoping there would be something appropriate for dessert, she thought "Foolishness be damned," and closed her eyes, thinking about all her concern for her dear Ani and confusion on how things had become so strained with Obi-Wan and tried to direct it to her husband.

It wasn't like the relationship wasn't strained before. Padme more than remembered Ani's description of his master when they'd first met after so many years apart: wise as Master Yoda, powerful as Master Windu, and utterly jealous of what Anakin was capable of and determined to hold him back. At the time Padme had been flustered - never before had she met a Jedi so prone to speaking his mind outright. Breaking protocol seemed to be second nature to him, and worse, it had never seemed to bother him.

It was one of the things she'd loved about him.

... Which had nothing to do with the now. Huffing, frustrated with herself, she went back to looking for desert, finally settling on something and pouring drinks. This was why she didn't try to reach out through a bond - her mind would just end up wandering!

Setting everything on a tray, she picked it up and started to walk back to the common room. Her husband and Obi-Wan, who had barely said a word to each other, were now talking quietly. Padme paused, debating on interrupting the moment or segueing to safer, lighter topics. For Anakin, at least, she knew that he wanted to get it all out in the open. Obi-Wan, she didn't have as clear a read on, but sensed the older Jedi preferred to take time, meditate on matters, and return with a clear head. She waited at the door, wondering which approach would be best.

"Anakin, please. Not now; not here."

"Yes _here_, Obi-Wan. I want to know _why_."

"I've already explained-"

"But I could've done it! Those people didn't have to _die_!"

"Anakin, you don't know that."

"Yes I do! Why do you _always_ do this? _Whenever_ I have a good idea you do everything to get in my way!" Anakin was yelling now, leaving Padme frozen in place, knowing now that they did need privacy but somehow rooted to her spot by the door, morbidly fascinated by the words and unable to pull away.

Where Ani was yelling, Obi-Wan was ever calm.

"Anakin, I don't get in your way and I'm sorry you think that. But one day, you'll have to understand the limits-"

"I'm the Chosen One! I don't _have_ limits!"

"Anakin, we all have-"

"Qui-Gon would have let me! He knew I was destined for great things!" A growl. "Why, huh? _Why wasn't it the other way around_!"

Silence.

Padme quickly put her tray down, fearing it she would drop it, her hands were suddenly shaking. She rushed into the common room, uncertain what she was even going to _say_ but knowing that there needed to be some kind of mediation before any more damage was done.

She came in just in time to see Ani grunt and suddenly clutch his head. He had been pacing, Obi-Wan still firmly planted in his seat. The older Jedi's eyes were closed in a sign of pain. His eyes snapped open, however, at Anakin's grunt and stood up quickly, striding around the table.

"Anakin? You weren't supposed to see-"

But once again Obi-Wan was cut off, not verbally this time, but physically. Faster than Padme had ever seen, Anakin's hands shot out, gripping Obi-Wan's arms. Padme couldn't decide if it was to keep him in one place or to cling to him. Ani's shoulders were shaking, his head still bent down, tension rippling through his taught muscles. Padme stepped forward, catching Obi-Wan's eye, but only sparing him a glance; her first priority was her husband.

"... Ani?" she asked softly, reaching a hand up to touch his shaking shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

His voice was low, cracked, hurting like he did on nights he was desperate for her, nights he clung to her and begged that she never went away, that she never leave him like he did his mother. Only now the need wasn't directed at her, it was directed at Obi-Wan. She looked to the older Jedi in askance. He had closed his eyes again.

"_Why didn't you tell me_?" Padme felt her heart break.

"... Because it wouldn't have done either of us any good," Obi-Wan replied, his voice tired, oddly resigned.

Anakin's head snapped up. "Do you really think so little of me?" he demanded, voice harsh.

"No, of course not," Obi-Wan replied, a hand reaching up and touching an elbow.

"Then _why_?"

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed, closing eyes again and just taking a moment to breath. "Whenever you get that angry nothing I say or do will affect you. Your emotions have control of you and it has to blow over before we can talk. By then, it hardly seems helpful to mention-"

"Hardly seems _helpful_?" Anakin demanded, eyes still fixed on his master. Padme rubbed a shoulder, offering quiet comfort. "Master, do you have any idea how differently things would have gone if you _ever_ admitted that I caused you _pain_?"

There was a long period of silence; Obi-Wan's face was unreadable to Padme, and she favored her husband's desperate, pleading look. She kissed his shoulder and gently coaxed him, them, away from the table and to the couches. She didn't know what to do. One instinct was telling her this was not her place and to leave them to resolve this apparent bombshell on their own, another was telling her that these two wonderful stubborn men would need her to run interference. She remembered the many fights she had with her sister though, and how she always hated it when her parents interfered. It was _their_ fight, not anyone else's, and so only _they_ could resolve the differences by stating her arguments and grievances and coming to a compromise. Mediation was only necessary if things came to blows, and both Padme and her sister were better than that. They saw to it.

Another thought told her not to apply her ideals on others. Anakin and Obi-Wan were different people - Jedi, even - and held themselves to different standards. She knew Anakin, knew what Obi-Wan said was true. His emotions were so strong, so powerful they sometimes consumed him. She'd learned that the hard way on Tatooine, when he'd confessed his slaughter of the Tusken Raiders. His pain was so raw it was palpable, tangible; and his regret afterwards quickly overcome by his anger at what the Raiders had done to his mother. So, too, was his rage when they had thought Obi-Wan dead - everyone but him, and no one would believe him. The same held true for his love, sometimes his need for her was crushing and on those nights she took great pleasure in satisfying him, much like he did on nights when her own love for him was overflowing.

For a long time, her Ani didn't know that his master had even felt pain. He often talked about his early Padawanship, how his master knew the answer to everything and always took the time to answer every question, even stupid ones, to the best of his ability. It wasn't until the war that he had started to get an inkling that his master wasn't as Jedi-perfect as he believed him to be.

It was after Obi-Wan's escape from Ratattak, his revival from the dead that Anakin became aware of his master's pain. Was it really only a few months ago? Her husband would come home and simply held her for hours, explaining in broken sentences the things he saw in Obi-Wan's mind as he tried to help heal his master. Padme often whispered reassurance into his ears on those nights, kissing him lightly and letting him know she was there for him in whatever way she needed. She had drawn up a petition that week to give extended leave for soldiers - clones and Jedi alike - if they'd suffered mental or physical trauma. The motion was uproariously defeated - this was _war_, after all, and soldiers were supposed to _fight_.

When Anakin ever expressed fleetingly that he might have hurt his master, Padme stroked his curls and explained that even with the best of intentions, people who loved each other could hurt each other. That thought alone had left him stricken until Padme went on to explain that people who loved each other most knew all the sensitive spots that would do the most damage, and in anger could and would often use those things as ammunition. But what mattered most, Padme explained, was to come back later and to sincerely apologize and offer penance.

Anakin had murmured something about anger and emotions and Jedi hypocrisy. Later he had thanked her for the words, but that he must not have hurt Obi-Wan as badly as he feared.

Padme had hoped that her husband was right, and not just rationalizing in order to protect himself.

Now they both knew the truth.

"We can't change the past," Obi-Wan said at last. His voice once again sounded resigned. "Besides," he added, his eyes locking on to her Ani, "there are many times in which what you say in anger is completely true."

Padme felt her husband tense even more, turned to see his eyes widen and his face slack in shock. There was a deeper meaning here that the Senator didn't understand. She didn't know the things Anakin would say out of anger to Obi-Wan, though she could guess very well, but even her partial knowledge didn't seem enough. She suddenly realized - with no proof but with irrefutable certainty - that Anakin had heard something through the bond. A tiny voice in the back of her head admitted jealousy that Obi-Wan shared a connection with her husband that she did not, but it was violently squelched in recognition that Ani had told her more than once that over time they would be that connected as well. They hadn't even been together five years and Obi-Wan had the benefit of over a dozen _and_ being Force-sensitive.

Focusing on the moment, she put her hands on Anakin's shoulders and pressed against his back, offering silent support.

"You believe that," he whispered. "You really believe that."

"It hardly matt-"

"_Yes it DOES matter!_" Anakin roared, startling both of them. He shot to his feet, energy pumping his legs this way and that, a long string of curses falling out of his mouth. "_Force_ Obi-Wan! Do you honestly think so little of yourself? That you're really so expendable?"

The sudden silence was deafening. Padme listened to it draw out, long and profound and _heavy_, pressing on her. Anakin's eyes were flashing, expressions and micro-expressions flooding his face, and even though Obi-Wan's face was perfectly neutral, she somehow knew that the two of them had taken their quarrel to the bond. It left the senator feeling surprisingly helpless - an occurrence she despised bitterly but did not know how to rectify. They were both still, now; Anakin stood ramrod straight, his fists clenched at his sides; Obi-Wan still sat on the couch, one might have supposed he was simply lost in thought. Padme stood, pacing slightly as her husband had done earlier.

She wanted to help. Very badly. But she didn't think it was her place to interfere, this fight was only a surface wave to a much deeper current - something she only ever caught glimpses of when her Ani was truly, deeply, upset. How badly she wanted to ease his fears! To reassure him that she would never leave... but it was false in some ways, because death seemed to linger everywhere. And so she said it would never be willingly, she would be his supporter with every breath that she had. Feeling that, she once again took her place at his side, placing a hand on his arm and pressing a kiss to his shoulder before placing her head there. She hoped it would be enough.

"Padme," Anakin suddenly whispered.

"Yes?" she said, quickly looking up and seeing his determined eyes, still battling on a level she would likely never understand.

"Is it alright if you help me?"

"Yes, Ani, anything," she said, thrilled at the idea.

And then there was _presence_ in her mind, and thoughts were popping up this way and that.

Padme suddenly remembered when she first met Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon: two hooded Jedi that rescued her from Nute Gunray and the Trade Federation's occupation of Naboo. Qui-Gon was tall and had a strong presence, dominating any conversation he took part in without even trying; Obi-Wan however was always in the background. He wielded a quiet _competence_ that made you listen to what he had to say. She remembered her double, Sabe, as she recounted what happened on the ship while she and Qui-Gon had gone looking for parts, how Obi-Wan gently but firmly insisted that no one make outside communications, his steady vigil at twilight waiting for his master. Padme suddenly recalled Ani talking about his master: strong as Windu and wise as Yoda, or seeing him fight in the arena on Geonosis and the transmission of his capture on that terrible planet; she remembered standing at Shmi Skywalker's grave, Ani collapsed to his knees in mourning, and how his face went white with horror when the two of them realized Obi-Wan's likely fate. She thought of how Obi-Wan must be like a father to Anakin. Memories of the Clone Wars, recent battles and explosions and times they were on the same negotiation table - his quiet disgust that he had been chosen for a political assignment.

More abstract thoughts filled Padme's mind: an observation she often had that Obi-Wan was a touchstone for internal strength. The Jedi was often unassuming, he was not one to stand out in a crowd, and yet people always knew he was there. When Padme was stressed she merely needed to _think_ about Obi-Wan and his sturdiness, his strength, his woefully understated confidence, and suddenly it would transfer to her, giving her the sturdiness and strength to do what was needed; just as thinking of her love for Anakin gave her the passion to fight for what was necessary. Padme suddenly pictured the two together, briefing the Senate on something or returning from a mission or having dinner with her. She thought of their light banter and in-jokes and how close the two of them were. They reminded her of herself and her sister Sola.

Just as suddenly as her memories were picked through it was gone, leaving a tingling sensation in the back of her head. She gasped lightly, and blinked. She was still at her Ani's shoulder, only now Obi-Wan had joined them, perhaps to stop whatever Anakin had done. Ani's free arm was clutching the back of his Master's head, and their foreheads were touching.

She realized dimly they were both sweating.

"Someday, Anakin," Obi-Wan started, breaking the spell. "You are going to learn the fine art of subtlety." His voice was tired, oddly hoarse, but gentle.

Her husband sounded equally tired, but his grin was triumphant. "Oh, I don't know," he started. "I think I get points for creativity."

Obi-Wan then did something quite uncharacteristic: he snorted.

Then, as one, they looked into each other's eyes and said, "I'm sorry."

And the weight of the apology spoke of more than some petty argument. This was years in the making, and it was heartfelt to the bottom of the soul. On both sides.

With it came an equally heavy: "It's alright."

And, just like that, the weight lifted in the room. Everything was okay again. Padme breathed a sigh of relief.

Then she smacked them both on the backs of their heads.

"Don't ever make me worry like that again!" she scolded. "The two of you are like a couple of children!" The pair looked appropriately abashed, Ani still rubbing his head and for a brief moment Padme thought she felt the sting, but she pushed it aside in favor of what she'd wanted to say all evening. "If the two of you ever give each other the silent treatment like that again you'll face more than that! Do either of you have any _idea_ how worried I've been this evening? Now the tea and caf are probably cold." She looked at the chrono and gave a strangled cry. "Is that the time? I have to get up early tomorrow!"

She put her hands on her hips and stared at the two gobsmacked men, bringing forth her full diplomaltic power. "I think it's only fair that the two of you finish clearing the plates, wash the dishes, and put the dessert back before the two of you go back to the Temple. Yes, Ani, _two_ of you. I need to sleep and _you_ are _not_ going to help in that endeavor." Her face flushed slightly at that, but it was the only tell she gave. The men continued to stare.

"Well?" she demanded, her voice deliberately rising an octave.

She'd never seen two Jedi move so quickly before - even in battle.

As she walked to her bedroom, she allowed herself a smile as she thought she heard her husband say something, a feeling of awe and love that wasn't her own wash over her. The senator had staged that fit only in part to let them know how worried she had been. More so, it was because whatever Anakin had done - and to be sure he had done something _big_ - the implications and the tension could be broken and discussed at a later date, when they both had time to absorb whatever impossible feat Anakin had just done.

* * *

The next day Padme didn't see Anakin at all. She expected that, last night had been big, and Obi-Wan and her husband needed time - war free time - together to sort it out. The senator would think several times over the day that she could sense his presence. She passed it off; knowing the affects of whatever Ani did would wear off in time.

That night Anakin came home briefly - explaining he had been put on assignment again and he would be leaving the next day. They spent all night expressing their love for each other and saying their goodbyes.

Toward dawn, the two lay pressed together in bed, holding each other in their last moments before another long separation.

"It may not be that long this time," Ani said, answering her quiet thoughts.

"Liar," she whispered softly. Anakin stiffened but she felt a press on her mind as she thought about how there was no way of knowing that it _would_ be short, and much evidence to the contrary.

"... yeah," he replied, relaxing again. Then, "Thanks. For you help with Obi-Wan."

Padme looked up from the patterns she'd been tracing on his abdomen. "What happened?" she asked. "What did you do?"

Her beloved frowned slightly, looking for words. "I... I showed him all my memories of him from my perspective. I showed yours, to, for good measure, and then I looked through his memories from his perspective. He has so little faith in his abilities, in how good he actually is, I... he had to see it, and so I made him."

"Hence his comment on subtlety," she said, grinning slightly at the memory.

"I... I never new how deeply I hurt him when I'm mad," Ani said, his face becoming distant. "I get angry so easily, too. It makes me wonder how many other people I've hurt."

"Oh, Ani," Padme said, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "It's perfectly normal to feel angry once in a while."

"Obi-Wan doesn't," Anakin pointed out, "And besides which, a Jedi can't feel anger. Anger leads to hate, and hate leads to the dark side. I... I'm a failure as a Jedi."

Padme stared at her husband, then sat up in bed, shocked. "Anakin Skywalker!" she cried out in disbelief. "Don't ever say that again! You're human! A person! People feel emotions, Jedi or not! I'm sure not even Master Yoda can claim that he's never felt emotions: worry, concern, pride in the younglings he teaches, satisfaction in a job well done.

"Besides," she added in a gentler voice, leaning forward and putting a hand on his bare chest. "Obi-Wan's a bad example to compare yourself to. Anger doesn't naturally come to some people; Obi-Wan is one of them. Instead of anger he'll turn inward, blame himself. Some people can let go of anger like he does, but others can't. You'd do better to look at me."

Ani blinked, uncomprehendingly. "But... but you..."

Oh, she _loved_ this man.

"You seem to have quickly forgotten the day you made me angry enough to scream."

He actually looked stricken. "Padme... I'm sorry... I'd never..."

She smiled. "You couldn't help it, of course. Your mother had just died," she said gently, knowing it was a soft subject. He flinched, and she felt a pressure on her mind again. "You were so lost then, you doubted that you even had the ability to save Obi-Wan when we learned he was captured. I knew that we had to _do_ something and you weren't even _listening_. So I did what I always do when I got angry."

"... What?"

"I channeled it," Padme continued. "I channel it into my work at the Senate, or I spend time with Sola, or I go to you and you let me rant and rave." She smiled again. "If you channel it to something constructive, anger suddenly loses its hold on you."

"You... you mean... it's okay to feel angry? Even at people you care about?"

"Yes," she replied.

"... saints and seekers..." he murmured. Something like understanding filled his face, and he smiled brighter than the morning sun before kissing her thoroughly.

He was late for his transport.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Hyuuu, so much to say about this chapter. The idea for it was simple enough: someone witnesses an argument between Obi-Ani and watch as it happens more in the bond than in words. It turned into this.

Note that three major things just happened. Anakin and Obi-Wan now have total understanding of each other's perspectives, full disclosure. Anakin did more than a little to strengthen the bond between him and Padme. And Anakin learned that anger isn't something to be buried and hidden, but channeled into constructive outcomes.

I suddenly wonder if it came out remotely right. Padme, whom I don't know very well, just wouldn't shut up, and I hope what's on the screen matches what's in my head. Because this fic was written out of order this is actually the first scene we did with her, trying to find her voice. Hopefully it sounds like her. I love her staged tantrum.

Also, this chapter was originally meant to come after Anakin's knighting (as evidenced by the concept art we directed you to last week) and it still doesn't quite feel like it fits here, despite several edits.

Next week: Another outsider's look at the bond.


	29. Where Distance Means Nothing

**Where Distance Means Nothing**

Cody stood at the circular holo-table, inputting his troops reports as General Obi-Wan Kenobi looked on, rubbing his beard. When the commander was done, a hologram of the terrain lit up above the table, and Cody gave his report.

"The Seppies have the high ground, sir. They're well entrenched here and here, and even with the native foliage for cover they'll see every move we make - especially when we hit this clearing here."

The general nodded. "What are the numbers?"

"Almost triple ours, sir."

General Kenobi heaved a deep sigh. "We knew at the beginning of the war it would be a question of numbers, but it would seem Archduke Poggle is determined to press the point. But let's not beat a dead krayt dragon." The general studied the map and Cody waited for his orders. "What's this here?" he asked, pointing to one part of the map.

"Sir, scouting droids say it's a ravine, about forty meters deep."

"Interesting..." General Kenobi said. "It runs almost behind the Separatist lines. Could the tactical enforcers fit?"

"No, sir. AT-TE specs are over five and a quarter meters wide. The ravine at its thinnest is just under five meters. We could make it wide enough, but the clankers would hear it."

"I see. What about the AT-AT? They're just over four meters wide." Obi-Wan leaned forward to the holo-table, his eyes darting back and forth across the map. "They carry the same number of troopers, and their added height will make them avoid the noise of snapping saplings. With the right placement, say here and here, two or three squads with heavy artillery can inflict massive damage on Separatists."

Cody considered: the plan was different than any he had been trained for, but then he was quickly discovering that being assigned to a Jedi meant that very little went by the book. He had always been considered an independent thinker, but there were moments when he knew he couldn't hold a candle to the creativity of people like General Kenobi and Commander Skywalker. It was why he was glad when he learned that he would be assigned to General Kenobi. It was all to his advantage, ultimately, as it widened his repertoire and made him more efficient and creative on the battlefield. He made a mental note to talk to Captain Rex when Commander Skywalker came back from his mission. They often shared stories of what they saw Jedi do on the battlefield. All the clones did, really. It made them better soldiers.

"Sir, there would still be a fair amount of noise, they'll be able to tell they're being flanked."

"Ah, but not if they're distracted."

"Sir?"

"If we give them a distraction worthy of their attention, all their focus would be conveniently diverted and give the squads time to set up. Then, at a predetermined signal, they open fire. What heavy artillery do we have for these squads?"

"Sir: thermal detonators carry a wide range, and we have a few Merr-Sonn missile launchers that are still functional after the last battle. If we have enough time, we could set up some antipersonnel mines and a blaster cannon."

The general offered a grin. "How much time do you need, Commander?"

"Once they're there, an hour to assemble the cannon. They can lay mines while doing it and any leftovers can just be thrown at the clankers."

"Excellent. Pick your best heavy troopers and assemble the squads necessary. Tell them to pack all the artillery they can carry onto the AT-AT. Once in position in the ravine, they can use line launchers not only to climb up but also send up artillery as they need it. That way they don't risk blowing themselves up if they're overrun."

"Sir," Cody asked, "You still haven't said what the decoy will be."

The general smiled. "That would be me, Cody. Assemble the men."

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Oh, and Cody?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Contact Commander Skywalker and ask him how his battle is faring."

Cody paused in putting on his helmet. "Sir, I wasn't aware Commander Skywalker sent word that he'd engaged the enemy."

General Kenobi grinned slightly. "I suspect it was a surprise attack, if his level of irritation is any indication."

"Yes, sir." Cody put his helmet on and started carrying out orders. Since his return from sick leave, the general showed an uncanny ability to know what Commander Skywalker was up to when he was off planet. If push came to shove, Cody supposed it had something to do with the Force, the magic mumbo-jumbo that made the Jedi capable of their super-being feats. Personally Cody didn't much care one way or the other, he just had to keep abreast of what a Jedi could do physically: maximum jump height, distance they can push, etc so he could do his best to assist. He knew Rex was keeping a journal on such things; it paid to be prepared in case they ever got face-to-face with Count Dooku himself. The general had never shown this level of perception before the sick leave, though, so for all Cody knew it was something else.

Two hours later the squads were climbing down the forty-meter ravine in their twenty-meter AT-ATs, and General Kenobi was getting ready to head out.

Cody came up and saluted. "Sir! Two hundred-and-twelfth at your disposal!"

The general blinked. "Cody, I said _I_ would be the distraction. The droids are programmed to shoot Jedi on sight-"

"Sir, with all due respect," Cody interjected, "the droids are going to need juicer bait than just you, and it will be more convincing if an entire battalion is bearing down on them."

"Cody, I can't expect you to put your men at risk-"

"You can't expect to stop us, either. Sir," Cody said. "We were born to do this, and besides; it's our job - my job - to keep you alive since Commander Skywalker keeps putting you at risk."

The general blinked at first, and for a moment Cody thought he might object. If the general gave a direct order Cody couldn't outright refuse it, but Cody had learned from Alpha 17 that polite objections and blunt reasoning often went very far. And it was true: it was every clone's job to keep the Jedi alive. For all of Cody's training in independent thought he knew he paled in comparison to the Jedi and their creativity. Besides which they could perform outstanding physical feats that made battle easier and the chance of victory higher.

General Kenobi finally grinned, and his stance relaxed some. "Commander Skywalker isn't here, but I deeply thank you for the sentiment. You make a good friend Cody."

The general turned. "Let's get moving."

To any outside observer it was a suicide march. The upper half of the hill was bare of all foliage - and cover - and at a respectable climb - perhaps forty degrees, and rugged earth. Anyone less trained than a Jedi or a clone would stumble on the way up, and that was assuming the clankers up top weren't shooting at them. Any sane commander would move to a different location, but there was one problem: this set up was on every hilltop in this hemisphere, and the clankers weren't the main force, they were the guards for the anti-aircraft cannon that commanded the skies, making air support impossible. For the last two days they had taken over only six hilltops. They needed another three-dozen in order to create a proper landing zone for a proper strike. If the ravines turned out useful, then perhaps some of the other strikes would go quickly.

But then, that brought them back to the suicide march.

Cody was a smart man, and he knew that if he wanted to stay alive he would have to stick near the general.

After the first dozen meters of walking, the droids saw the approach and opened fire. Cody heard any number of brothers screaming in death throws, but it didn't bother him; they were born for this, they were only doing their duty. He raised his sniper-class blaster to his sites and fired a few shots, but realized it took too long to do it, and so he lowered his weapon and kept marching.

Watching a Jedi - any Jedi - was a sight. Watching General Kenobi, though, now that was an _experience_, and this was a prime example of it. The top of the hill had thrice the number of droids than they clones, and each one was equipped with some class of blaster; the rain of fire from above was so thickly concentrated that one might have thought it was a single blast of red light. It was suicide to even consider assault. And yet, calmly walking through the storm of blasts, explosions, flying earth, through the cacophony of sounds and screams, was the general. His lightsaber swung around his body in tight circles so quickly one might think it the blue shield of a droideka. No blast - not one - got anywhere near him; it was almost like he was walking through a Naboo garden, a leisurely stroll except there was nothing leisurely about the pace he was setting. He wasn't running, per se, but there was a quickness in his steps, a weightlessness in his ongoing march that left Cody and the clones hard pressed to keep up.

It was when they cleared the last of the foliage that things really got rough. Without the alien trees and brambles to block their aim, Cody knew that casualties were about to get much worse. He wondered what was taking the ravine squad so long to set up; but then time in battle was often skewed. For all he knew they had only been fighting for a few minutes.

"Cody!" the general shouted over the hailstorm of noise. "Get ready!"

The clone commander raised his blaster, aiming along the barrel. Suddenly the general was nowhere in sight, and Cody took the opportunity to fire. He was itching for a chance to engage the droid one-on-one; he preferred the brutal intensity of melee combat, but for now he'd have to settle for the satisfaction of the scope. He was out in the open, a perfect target as were the rest of his brothers, but Cody knew better than perhaps anyone that when General Kenobi lead an assault, it meant that you were _protected_. There was a sudden explosion that rocked the entire hilltop, shaking Cody from helmet to boots, and he saw a plume of high velocity smoke rise from the anti-air cannon. That was the ravine squad; the general must have known they were ready. The fireball heartened the troopers, and they all instinctively double-timed their pace. Cody got back on his feet and started firing as he walked. He could see the goldies were running around in confusion; it would be several minutes before the idiots figured out what to do. Cody took advantage of that and picked off as many as he could.

The general was at his side again, his blue lightsaber swirling around the both of them; the clone commander could smell the ozone at one point the weapon passed so close to his armor. It would never harm him, though; the general knew how to wield that thing to great effect.

An explosion appeared under their feet, and Cody was swirling about in the air trying to figure out which way was up or down; a transmitter in his helmet broke and that static backlash deafened him even more than the explosion, there was a giant thudding sound that rocked him to his bones, and then he was looking up at the pink sky and wondering what had happened. His ears were ringing.

"Commander?" one of the troopers - Boil - asked, helmet off. He could barely hear it.

"A little deaf," Cody replied, blinking quickly and assessing himself. He pulled himself up to a sitting position slowly. Clones didn't have half the pain receptors normal humans did, but they did know if something was broken or less than fully functional. He flexed his fingers and looked to his feet. "All present and accounted for," he was able to say in a steadier voice. "Where's the general?"

"Don't know yet, sir."

"The assault?"

"Victory, sir. After the cannons were taken out, the ravine squad managed to fire a well-aimed shot at the portable think tank. Every droid in ten clicks of here deactivated on the spot. Rookies are going through them all and making sure they never activate again. Waxer and Wooley are guarding the think tank; we figure if anything's salvageable the higher ups will want it."

"Casualties?"

"Still assessing, sir."

"Understood. We need to find the general, make sure he's alright." Skywalker would kill them if they didn't.

When he first got up, Cody registered faint surprise that he'd flown as far as he did. He was easily a hundred meters down the slope of the hill, back in the foliage, the crater of the impact still smoking slightly. Turning around, the clone commander saw the litter of bodies around him, white and yellow armor now smoking and bloody. The acrid smell of blood and feces and smoke filled the air. His ears were still ringing, but he could dimly make out the sounds of orders and commentary from the battalion through the high-pitched whine.

"Do you think he survived?" Boil asked, his voice was low but Cody could just read his lips.

"If I did, then the general _definitely_ did," he answered. Jedi could handle much more than a clone. There were three shinies near him, good. "You three," he called out, perhaps louder than he should've, but his hearing was all out of whack. "You, Boil, and I are going to pick through the bodies and look for the general. He was caught up in the same explosion as I was so he can't be far."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Rookies.

Cody rolled his shoulders; the antennae attached to his left shoulder-guard poked his neck, bent all out of shape. One could barely see the white under all the dirt and earth that had propelled up at him at high velocity during the explosion. Cody rubbed at it slightly, bits of white peaking through his chest plate. He clinically noted there were a lot of bodies immediately around him; the battalion had taken a hard hit for this. Rubbing his eyes with a smeared glove, he started rolling over the fresh meat to see what was underneath them. Still a little unsteady on his feet, he started pulling the bodies once he'd confirmed they were dead and making a pile, easier to see the ground with. Boil quickly ordered the shinies to do the same.

"Sir? Are you going to answer the comm?" one of the rookies asked.

Cody looked down to his wrist communicator and saw that it was blinking. Frowning, he held it up to his ear and just barely heard its incessant beeping. He'd need a medic to check his hearing.

"Commander Cody," he said into his wrist, straining to listen.

_"Cody? What's going on over there?"_

"Commander Skywalker." Of course the commander _would_ pick a time to check in when they were missing the general. He just had a knack for it. "Things are going slowly without the air support." Brief, concise, literal answer to the question. Cody held his breath, hoping that would be enough. He knew it wouldn't, but he had to try.

_"And General Kenobi?"_ he asked, his voice sounding suddenly very annoyed.

"We, uh," Cody started slowly, knowing that the ringing in his ears was about to get a lot worse. "We got separated in the last assault, we're looking for him now."

_"You mean you LOST him?"_

"The two of us were caught up in an explosion, sir. Shortly after the droids were deactivated and wiped out. It's just a matter of seeing where he, uh, landed." Cody winced, waiting for the tirade that was bound to follow - or worse - the imminent knowledge that Commander Skywalker was on his way back just to chew everyone out until the general was found. He was utterly horrible on Jabiim when they were first searching for the general before concluding that he was dead.

But, instead of an irritated growl, there was a long silence. Cody almost thought the line had gone dead when the commander finally responded.

_"He should be waking up now."_ Commander Skywalker's voice sounded oddly distant to Cody's poor ears, and the clone commander wasn't sure he'd heard Skywalker right. The man was at least a dozen parsecs away; there was no way...

"Sir, did you hear that?" Boil asked.

"My ears are still ringing," he answered, pointing to his ears.

"I thought I heard a mo - there it is again," he said, putting on his helmet for its enhanced audio receptors. "This way," he said, motioning with his hand. Cody and the three rookies followed; he still couldn't hear a thing, but the others soon did and the five troopers paused, looking about. There weren't any bodies, but everyone consented that the moaning was coming from here.

It was Cody that thought to look up to the trees and was only mildly shocked to see the general caught in a thick throng of branches, suspended perhaps half a dozen meters in the air.

"General!" he called up. "Are you alright?"

He couldn't hear the response. He growled slightly. "Come on, let's get him down from there," he ordered. Boil climbed the tree with one of the shinies and started cutting limbs. Cody did manage to hear a startled curse and watched as the general started to fall the dozen meters. A hand shot out, however, and grabbed a tree branch. Legs swinging, Cody saw that General Kenobi's free hand was at his temples, rubbing them. His eyes appeared to be closed. Had he done that without even looking?

Boil and the shiny were able to get him down, and he sat down a little heavily. Cody knelt down by him. "Sir, are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes, Anakin, I'm _fine_, now _do_ shut up. I have a headache as it is..."

Cody looked up to Boil. "Looks like a concussion, call for a medic."

"No, no, Cody, I'm fine," the general said slowly, looking up. He had a cut on his face and dirt smeared over him worse that Cody himself. "I have a headache, certainly, but no concussion and," he paused, closing his eyes, "no serious injuries."

"Yes, sir. But just now you said-"

"I know what I said, Cody," the general said, a smiling bleeding through his beard. "Anakin was kind enough to wake me up in the most blunt manner possible, and I was politely telling him to be quiet."

"... Sir. He's twelve parsecs away-"

"And very annoyed by the distance, I assure you," he replied. He stood up slowly, a little shaky on his feet. He put a hand on a tree trunk to steady himself before he took a deep breath. "How long was I out?"

Cody looked to Boil. "About an hour." The two gave him a report of events up to this point, and he absorbed it with a calm face.

"Alright," he said finally. "Let's check in with our people at the ravine. We'll want to finish assessing our losses before we take the next hill - hopefully before Commander Skywalker decides it's safe enough to leave and comes back to yell at me about self-preservation."

"Yes sir!"

* * *

**Authors Notes:** A parsec is 30,856,775,813,057.3 kilometers. Anakin's a dozen of those away. I figured that'd be far enough away that people with Force bonds might find that a little far to, uh, "reach out and touch someone." Not these two, though. :P

Since Jabiim has happened, now we need to show what some of our tweaks are doing; and it often helps to have these kind of observations from someone outside Ani and Obi. Cody seemed like the best choice, and the deeper into the fic we get the more we like exploring other characters.

Also, note that Anakin didn't have a meltdown, and in point of fact didn't even break stride, er, much. He's learning.

We're pleased to note that none of you guessed who the POV would be from in this chapter. ^_^ We like being able to surprise you.

Next week: An encounter with Ventress. We all know how this is going to go.


	30. Where Darkness Strikes Again

**Where Darkness Strikes Again**

It was raining.

As a child rain had been a myth. A legend told by off-worlders who knew the wonder of planets that had enough water to dump it indiscriminately, wherever a capricious shower wanted to be. Such people complained of the inconvenience of rain making a regular outing a cold soggy grind to find shelter.

He had been envious that they could treat rain so casually.

And then he was on a planet where rain was scheduled like the rest of the weather. He had watched those weather broadcasts and if there were a forecast of rain, he'd find a way to be outside when the heavens opened up. His master was understanding of his fascination with rain, though often a little put out with having to send _another_ load of laundry down. Once he understood, _really_ understood, that water was in abundance and didn't need rationing, he'd discovered the wonder of a shower, how it mimicked rain and the wondrous feeling of life-giving water falling from the heavens as if just for him.

Then war came. He led troops through downpours, mud, flooded rivers, and violent thunderstorms. He'd been caked in grime so thick, he never thought he'd get clean until the rain came and at least washed his face and hair. That was when he'd understood that rain could be a hindrance, inconvenient. It interfered with troop placement, spoiled food and washed away tracks.

But rain took a whole different, painful meaning on Jabiim. For two horrible, disgusting months, rain was just as much of an enemy as the Separatists and half the citizens of Jabiim. Dry moments were fleeting and cherished in the horror as clones, Jedi, and allied Jabiim were slaughtered day after day like livestock. It had been when he was in a downpour positioning clones when there was a flash of pain that wasn't his and then terrifying silence from a corner of his mind that hadn't been completely quiet for over a year. For the next forty-eight hours, he'd led search efforts in a down-pouring thunderstorm that did not stop. He would have kept going if he hadn't passed out from exhaustion.

Rain now held pain, even now as it was trying to wash away what had just happened.

Anakin tilted his head back, letting the rain push his hair back out of his face like he would in the shower. He was sitting on a log. A log he had cut in his recent battle. His clothes were in tatters, his robes almost non-existent, and pants with gaping holes. He was already soaked through; he could feel water swishing in his boots.

Letting his head sink once more, he remembered. He had been leading the starfighters over Muunilinst, his master trusting his flying skills, as always, despite the complaints. A fanblade fighter had caught his eye that had pulled off quite a few unusual maneuvers that, admittedly, impressed him. It was the taunting "Catch me if you can," that had him disengaging and following. Even though he knew Obi-Wan would be disappointed, his curiosity got the better of him. The space/air battle was going well and he'd rationalized that he could be spared long enough to satisfy said curiosity.

It had turned out to be _her_. The evil Sith bitch. All thoughts of Muunilinst were gone, save for his master, his _family_. This bald bog-witch was the one responsible for Obi-Wan's torture. As they had worked together to help Obi-Wan release all the feelings, Anakin had caught flashes of what his brother-turned-father had been through. And it hadn't even been a fraction of what Obi-Wan had experienced.

And the perpetrator had stood before him.

Anakin hadn't thought. He'd just reacted.

"_**You!**_"

That was all he had said.

What followed had been brutal. Violent. Animalistic. That bitch had hurt Obi-Wan. That was all Anakin had been able to focus on. It was like a gift from the Force that she was there, because in all his worry and concern and fretting over his brother-turned-father, a tiny black part of himself he hadn't even been aware of was nursing the anger and thirst for revenge.

A Jedi sought justice, not vengeance.

Anakin knew he could never rationalize murder as justice. His meditations with Obi-Wan had made him accept that. He had sworn to himself, again and again, that if anything happened to Padme, he'd seek justice, not vengeance, else leave it to someone else.

It was only now he realized that he hadn't made that same promise for Obi-Wan. His brother-turned-father had always been strong and invulnerable in his eyes. Even those awful times that he came back from a mission injured, Obi-Wan had maintained his quiet dignity and strength, complaining about being in the Healer's care, saying he was fine.

When he'd finally come home from Rattatak that was _not_ true. Obi-Wan had been broken down, chewed up and flushed into a sewer. He had never said he was fine. He had never refused help, leaning heavily on his Padawan for _every_thing. The most random things would set off flashbacks, leaving him reverting back to the shell he was when Anakin had finally found him.

Each time this had happened was like another cut at Anakin's heart. Obi-Wan was his _family_, just like Padme was. Together, the two could fill him with such warmth and love that he felt like he could overflow.

And that this sadistic, cruel, aggressive, egregiously antagonistic, _evil_ bitch had hurt someone he _loved_. His _family_.

And despite everything he'd been doing to prevent a repeat of what had occurred with the Tusken Raiders, Anakin had flown at the malicious bitch in the same red haze. He attacked with everything he had. His lightsaber. The Force. The trees. Stones. Vines. Dirt. Anything. Everything. Because she _would never hurt his family again_.

The darkness that had been sticking and clinging to him had diminished since he had started meditating about it with Obi-Wan. But it wasn't gone. It had surged forward as he fought, giving him power and an intoxicating sense of superiority. And as if that wasn't enough, there seemed to be darkness all around him that was heeding his call. Particularly at the ruined temple where Anakin had finally pitched her off the roof and down into a cavernous ravine with no visible bottom.

As she had shrunk to a tiny pinprick and disappeared, Anakin had let out a wild call of victory, shouting out his success with so much power and force that the local wildlife that hadn't already fled in fear, ran away.

And standing on that parapet of power, anger and sweet, cold vengeance dancing around him, a soft _"...anakin...?_" had echoed ever so briefly in his mind.

Anakin was no longer sure if there were tears mixing with the rain or not.

He didn't even know what to feel.

It was time to get moving. He knew that. Battle still raged on Muunilinst. But he just couldn't bring himself to move.

There was a sudden chill down his spine and Anakin stiffened, looking around. He didn't see anything, but that meant nothing. Reaching out with the Force, he shuddered. The Dark Side. The planet _reeked_ of it.

He needed to leave.

_Now_.

Because darkness stuck and clung; and it attracted more darkness.

Anakin had had enough darkness for one day.

And then some.

* * *

It didn't take long to find the bitch's... Ventress's ship. Even less to hotwire it and lift off.

When Anakin returned, the battle was still raging, and one of the clones started giving an assessment of the battle and who needed help and where. Anakin, as was becoming increasingly necessary, put his emotions aside to work on the fight. Really, there was nothing left in him to feel, and as he sunk into the Force to feel out the fighters and the enemies and who was where and what to fire when, he convinced himself the nausea that he felt for using something so grey was actually nothing more than fatigue. He joined a squad and gave the plan - another daring flare of extravagance from Skywalker - and in twenty minutes turned the tide of the battle and then finished it.

It meant nothing to him.

He had boarded the _Negotiator_, and he had immediately retreated to his quarters and sunk into meditation. He needed to assess how much darkness was still sticking and clinging.

It was... disappointing.

All the work that had been done was... undone.

Anakin slipped deeper into his meditation to figure out what had happened to him. Much of the Darkness in him was... familiar. It was the thirst for vengeance. Only instead of only being the need to avenge his mother, Anakin was shocked to find that a large chunk of his darkness also came from a desire to avenge his brother-turned-father for what had happened to him on Rattatak. He had never even known that it was festering inside of him. Anger that Obi-Wan had been treated so. All the feelings he'd had after his mother had perished in his arms, only this time, about Obi-Wan.

He had never prepared himself...

And because of that, he had messed up on a grand scale. He'd killed Ventress. She may not have been defenseless like many of the Tusken he'd slaughtered, but the intent was the same. He'd called on the Force, not caring which side answered his summons and the inner darkness that all beings had answered. The same darkness that he and Obi-Wan had been working on purging. It had grown and undulated and wrapped itself once more around him, sticking and clinging.

As if that wasn't enough, some of the darkness from that horrible temple, that despicable world, had decided to stick and cling as well.

This was frightening, worrying, disheartening... So many negative emotions flared when this was realized and fed the darkness, making it wrap around him even more strongly. He tried to do as he'd been taught, accepting the negative feelings and releasing them, but the knot was too big, there were too many emotions to sort out and he couldn't even find one end of a thread to follow. How could he do this? How would he ever be able to get rid of all of this?

_Anakin?_

He jerked himself out of meditation.

"Obi-Wan!" he cried out. Anakin surged forward, clutching at his brother-turned-father's shoulders, dropping his head to his listen to the steady heartbeat that assured him after a nightmare.

Tears prickled and started to fall as the turmoil of everything flung around him out of control. So much darkness. So much. And part of it was _his_. What did that say about him? He wanted to be a _Jedi_. He worked hard to _be_ a Jedi. He still stumbled and fell, but he'd made progress. He was still on the right path. Wasn't he? What he had done that day...

"Master!" he tried to find the words. "It's... everything's wrong... I just... what I... I'm disturbed!" Because the whole day had been disturbing from finding and fighting Ventress to meditating and seeing what had happened to him. And if the whole situation wasn't disturbing, Anakin _himself_ was disturbed, because what kind of person _was_ he? "Wrong... it was so wrong..." he shuddered. "Ventress... the darkness... so _wrong_..."

He was starting to get hysterical.

Obi-Wan stiffened at Ventress's name, his entire form going rigid with tension, muscles taught, before loosening and pulling Anakin close into a rough, firm hug.

Anakin hadn't been held like this for years. It just couldn't be because he'd shot up in height to over a head taller than his master. Obi-Wan couldn't wrap Anakin in a hug of safety because it just wasn't as easy as when he'd been smaller. Plus, as Anakin grew up, like all other teenagers, he didn't want to be treated as a child any more. He pressed his body into the hug, warm arms, rough cloth, strong grip. Obi-Wan never realized it, _Anakin_ never realized it half the time, but his master gave great hugs. Anakin shivered and realized only belatedly that his clothes were still in tatters. He was shaking.

When they pulled apart Obi-Wan shrugged off his robe and gave it to Anakin. Selfless in everything. The Light in the gesture made Anakin's eyes water, he would never be so thoughtful in his life. Never. He wasn't the Jedi he should be. He _wasn't_, and would he _ever_ be after this?

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, wrapping the cloak around him, "You're thoughts are too jumbled, your feelings are overpowering. I can't make sense of it. What happened?"

Ah, if only it were so easy to say!

Instead, Anakin sent pictures along the bond, snapshots of what had happened when he chased the fanblade ship and the dire results. Attached to them were emotions: rage, lust for revenge, _power_, _victory_, realization, remorse, self-disgust. Doing it this way Anakin found his knot was a little looser, he could identify threads now. He had no idea that sharing could bring this level of clarity, and a corner in the back of his mind wondered why he didn't go to Obi-Wan so much sooner about the Raiders.

When he was done, they both took a deep breath and sat down.

"... Master," he said softly, "I'm not the Jedi I should be..."

Obi-Wan exhaled through his nose, taking a long pause before answering. "No one is the perfect Jedi, Anakin."

Anakin looked up. "_You_ are," he pointed out. Obi-Wan never saw it. Never. And that was just like him.

Obi-Wan blinked and immediately tried to rebuff the statement. "Anakin, I'm hardly perfect-"

"A perfect human, no," Anakin readily agreed, "You're anal retentive, obsessive compulsive, you think rubbing your beard is an adequate substitute for a smile, you'll never hug in public, you have utterly _no_ sense of self-preservation and don't even get me started on how much you like meditation." They both chuckled, perhaps a little dully, but the young man continued. "But as a Jedi? You never get angry, you don't let all those emotions you claim to have affect you, you always - _always _ - manage to choose the greater good, you're self-sacrificing, _humble_. The dark can never touch you."

Obi-Wan Kenobi was the proof that it was possible to be the perfect Jedi. Anakin was the space-be-damned _Chosen One_, if he were as great and all-powerful as prophecy dictated, then surely, _surely_ he wouldn't be having the problems he was having. The darkness shouldn't be able to touch him; and yet it did.

_To think one with such confidence would have so little of it._

By now, Anakin didn't even question the stray thoughts he so often picked up from his master - especially since finding him. Obi-Wan projected understanding across the bond, something Anakin felt so strongly it wrapped around him like a blanket, and he mentally nestled into it, feeling parts of him relax.

"What you conveniently forget, Padawan, was that the dark _has_ touched me."

Anakin shook his head. "You threw it off! So what if it took a year, so what if it was the death of Qui-Gon. I. Just. Keep. Attracting. It. What's _wrong_ with me?"

Obi-Wan sighed and put a hand on his Padawan's shoulder. "Then perhaps we should learn why it keeps finding you," he said slowly.

The two sat down.

"What emotions were you feeling when you saw her?"

"You already know, Master. I showed you."

"Tell me in your own words."

Anakin ran his hands through his short hair, tugging at the longer strands. The pain made him feel good, or at least marginally better. "Anger. Delight-"

"One at a time," Obi-Wan said, rubbing his beard. He wasn't looking at Anakin, his gaze locked on the middle distance of deep thought. "Why anger?"

"Because it was _her_."

"Why? What made her so special compared to, say, Durge or Grievous?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Anakin asked, suddenly feeling snappish. Why was he suddenly so angry?

"No, Anakin," Obi-Wan said in level tones, his gaze finally turning to Anakin, flat and closed off. "It isn't obvious at all."

That was a lie, of course; Obi-Wan did know why she made him angry; it was bait to make Anakin say it out loud.

What would later gall Anakin was that he fell for it even though he knew it was coming.

"_Because of what she did to you!_" he shouted, energy surging him to his feet. "That fucking bitch _tortured_ you, _took away the Force_ from you! It's the worst violation you can do to a Jedi and she _did_ that do you!" Words were pouring out of him, thoughts he never gave voice to suddenly falling out of his mouth. "She hurt you! She hurt _me_! That Sith-slut _took you away from me_! I was _all alone_ because of her! When I saw her it just brought everything up again and I just wanted to _kill_ her because she _deserved it_ because of what she _did_ to you! To us! To _me_! When you came back you weren't you; I could see all your flashbacks and it _hurt_, it hurt _so much_ I couldn't stand it and if I felt that way I couldn't even picture what you felt like and I _couldn't do anything_! I tried! I tried so hard but you kept having them and I couldn't help you; I couldn't fix it, just like I couldn't fix my mother and _IT'S ALL HER FUCKING FAULT!_"

The energy finally spent, Anakin found himself breathing hard. Obi-Wan continued to sit still, a quiet rock against Anakin's storm. How did he ever manage to do that every single time? Suddenly listless, Anakin slumped back down.

"You said you were delighted to see her. Why?" Obi-Wan asked softly.

"Because it gave me the opportunity to make her _**pay**_."

"...'Revenge is a confession of pain'."

The old Jedi adage, though he and every youngling in the Temple had heard it several times, hit Anakin hard. His eyes widened and he gave a haunted look to his master.

"... What?"

His bearded face was still blank. "How were you hurt?"

Anakin knew immediately what Obi-Wan was asking. He couldn't bring himself to answer it. The words died and turned to ash on his lips. He knew the answer; he knew it like he didn't as a teenager. When he was younger all he knew was that he hated being away from his mother, being isolated from the other students. As he grew older and meta-cognition began to develop, however, Anakin began to attach different words to those feelings. In the simplest terms: he hated being alone. More accurately, because he had no control over events in his young life as a slave he had come to treasure those things he considered his. The things he treasured most were people, and when he claimed them in his heart he did so with everything that he was: his mother, Padme, Obi-Wan. And, much like a slave who hated having his free time taken up or slapped across the face for being funny or having things taken away because they kept you from your job, Anakin hated having those he loved taken away from him. He clutched and clung and held onto them as tightly as he could, and hell would rain down on those that dared try to take them.

Like the Tusken Raiders.

Like Ventress.

With Obi-Wan's question, Anakin realized with utter clarity that he would do this again. And again. And again.

Fear exploded in his head and stole his breath. Obi-Wan sucked in a gasp, too, a hand shooting up to his temple.

"Anakin... _Anakin_... where is this fear coming from?" Obi-Wan's voice seemed very far away.

That was when the door slid open with a _fwoosh_ and Clone Commander Cody stepped in. "Sirs," he said. If he was aware of the tension in the room he made no sign of it. "General Windu would like your reports."

"Yes, Commander," Obi-Wan said, "Tell him we'll be there shortly."

Cody left, the door sliding shut. The two stared at each other.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said slowly, running a hand over his beard before settling on tugging at a small tuft of it. "I suspect that there is a core reason that makes you so attractive to the dark. Even in our meditations I've yet to see you bring it up and deal with it, and until you do I don't think you'll be successful in this." He paused, something in his face changing. Anakin didn't focus quickly enough to pick up what it was.

"Master?"

"I... I cannot help you with this," he said at last. _I can't face this for you,_ came the stray thought.

Perhaps for the first time, Anakin understood. This was something he would have to do himself. He had to face that debilitating fear on his own. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

"We should make our report before Mace decided Muunilinst needs his personal attention."

Obi-Wan gave nothing away as the two left to proceed to the bridge. He didn't need to. His disappointment was obvious. Anakin was disappointed too, because he knew damn well he was running.

That just made him feel even worse.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Hmmm, it seems we might have disappointed you since Ventress didn't actually show up. Nor was there a true battle. We didn't wish to rewrite what was already seen in the Clone Wars animated mini-series. Yes, we know that this technically happens BEFORE Jabiim, but this is just so much more poignant if it is here. In fact this placement was inspired by the original version of Misunderstood (go read). No, Ventress is NOT dead, and will keep coming back as per canon dictates. Anakin just _thinks_ he killed her. But at last, we have discovered what Anakin's primary attraction to darkness is (not that we didn't already know this) and Obi-Wan and Anakin can _attempt_ to deal with this (though success is questionable at this point.)

We have three more chapters for this arc before we take a month break and put up the third part. For those of you wondering about All But Name, expect a new chapter for that during the break for Simple Steps. And possibly a new story that is not Star Wars related, haven't decided to post that or not now. The remaining chapters will be outside points of view, in the order of, Sidious, Yoda, and Mace.

Next week: Where Sidious Ponders


	31. Where Sidious Ponders

**Where Sidious Ponders**

Darth Sidious allowed a moment's distraction from his growing discontent as he looked out over the planet he owned in everything but name. And it was good that no one knew that this citified planet was his all the way from the Senate to the lower levels to the Jedi Temple. As long as no one knew, Sidious could do as he pleased.

Not even the Jedi knew of his power over them. They didn't see his eyes in their walls, his ears at their meetings, nor his guidance as they floundered through this war. The knowledge that he had them eating out of his hand and didn't even know it was as satisfying as it was addicting. But Sidious controlled his desire to grab at the opportunities the Jedi continuously left at his feet to destroy them. He controlled it with the iron will with which he controlled every aspect of his life.

Yet Sidious's discontent returned.

He had been planning the downfall of the Jedi for decades as every Sith did. But unlike all others before him, Sidious would see it happen in his lifetime. The future lay clearly before him when word of Anakin Skywalker had reached him. The Jedi thought him the Chosen One of their legends; they were correct. Skywalker _was_ the Chosen One: the Chosen One of the Sith. Jedi tended toward blindness, so their mistake did not surprise Sidious. Indeed, it pleased him greatly, as he saw how Skywalker would not only bring the Jedi to their knees, but also destroy them from the inside out.

So when Sidious heard of young Skywalker, he'd ordered a clone army that very day, knowing the time had at last come.

And now, over a decade later, as things were flowering beautifully after years of tender care, something had changed. Drastically.

It could ruin everything.

Sidious had taken great care in every step he took. Kenobi, predictably lost in grief over his master's death, had allowed young Skywalker to regularly visit Sidious. It took little effort to gain the boy's trust and start setting the seeds of proper teaching. Sidious had encouraged Skywalker's natural arrogance. Reassured him that every "mistake" he made against Jedi teachings was understandable; correct even. It was some of the finest manipulation Sidious had ever done over the long course of his career. All right under the Jedi noses.

When he'd begun the Clone Wars, things had proceeded to go as planned. Kenobi, the famed "Sith Slayer" had, through Sidious's gentle hand, been in massacre after massacre, dragging young Skywalker through the worst horrors Sidious could imagine just because the Council told them to.

Surrounded by so much death, especially after the harsh death of his mother, Skywalker's desire to see loved ones live continued to grow. Skywalker's beloved master was always in much danger, if not more given Kenobi's lack of self-preservation from time to time, and even the careful placement of Amidala in danger merely cemented the selfish desire, though Sidious had to play that card carefully and rarely.

Yes, Amidala. Such a rare child. Skywalker's obsession with her would be one of the ways in which he would become Sidious' apprentice. Love. It was such an easy emotion to manipulate. Keep them apart so that their passion burned brighter. Just as Skywalker was about to break from the distance, call him back. Give them just a little time and as things start to settle, pull Skywalker away again, leaving them frustrated. Once in a while, put both Amidala and Skywalker together on a mission with other Jedi to let frustration simmer at keeping their affair a secret. Then, with judicious care, put Amidala in danger with Skywalker unable to assist, or with a need for Skywalker to be elsewhere to save more, yet anonymous, lives.

This is how love was manipulated on a grand scale, with the ultimate conclusion being Skywalker's desire to see her live. Not matter _what_.

Too bad Amidala would betray Skywalker. Sidious would see to it. The greater the bond, the more the betrayal would cut and rip. It would be one half of the betrayal that would send Skywalker crawling to him.

The other half would be through Skywalker's precious Kenobi. The more subtle work that he was doing with Amidala would not be necessary. Kenobi was already in permanent danger on every mission he went on. Sidious had heard that Grievous in particular was looking forward to hanging Kenobi's head on a wall and using Kenobi's own lightsaber to take down any Jedi in his way.

Tyranus as well had no issues with fighting his Padawan's Padawan if it furthered their goal. Even Tyranus's Acolytes thrilled at the chance of taking Kenobi down, particularly Ventress. And with all this focus on Kenobi, Skywalker's feelings of being held back and feelings of unimportance flourished.

Ventress, in particular, had been a stroke of genius. Originally tasked with killing Skywalker - a feat Sidious knew she was incapable of - both Skywalker and Kenobi had watched her "die" many times, only to have her resurface. A subtle clue to Skywalker that cheating death lay in the Dark Side.

There was also the added bonus that Ventress inspired revenge. Her continual escapes and miraculous returns from certain death increased Skywalker's frustrations that she still lived and had yet to pay for her numerous crimes. Ventress herself had fanned the fuel of revenge when she had decided to hold Kenobi in her care for over two long months. No one had known that she'd done this, not even Tyranus. And while Ventress did as she wished with Kenobi, Sidious had been delighting in the torment Skywalker had gone through on Jabiim. That time it hadn't just been clones to die, but Jedi, fellow Padawans, and the local inhabitants. One of the best disasters Sidious had done and Skywalker stuck through every minute of it.

And half of that time was after Kenobi had apparently "died," leaving Skywalker convinced that he should have been able to do something to stop it. And then for just over a month, Skywalker had been apprenticed to Mundi, who worked with a Knight that was a Tusken Raider.

The irony was delicious.

Skywalker had been trapped between rage, grief, frustration, despair, and with Amidala busy with the Senate as Sidious had seen to, with no outlet. Sidious had been tempted to turn Skywalker then. But he controlled it. It was not yet time. There was yet more to do to push Skywalker to the Dark Side.

Yet Ventress had failed, as she always would. Kenobi had escaped and Skywalker had somehow sensed it, deserting the Jedi in order to get to Kenobi. In many ways, Sidious wished he had been there when Skywalker had found Kenobi. The rage and grief and thirst for vengeance young Skywalker must have felt...

Sidious had seen Kenobi's state when he'd returned to Coruscant. The injuries to both body and soul had been severe. Another thing for Skywalker to both seek revenge and seek safety for those he held dear. Each distressing encounter with the war would push Skywalker further and further into a corner.

And, when Sidious was certain that Skywalker was ready, he would reveal a betrayal by the Jedi.

Oh, young Skywalker would deny it. But the seeds of doubt already planted and the flourishing would take hold. Skywalker would protest Kenobi's involvement and Sidious, with the ease of his decades of practice, would set up Kenobi against Skywalker and send Amidala in the middle. Two betrayals by the two who mattered most. Skywalker would come to him willingly...

This was the path he had foreseen. Not only would Sidious have taken down the Jedi and have the entire galaxy under his control, as he originally planned, but he would have the Chosen One, the strongest being the Force had ever seen, at his side as an apprentice.

Power over the Chosen One.

It would be glorious.

Sidious had never had reason to doubt the veracity of what he had seen. His visions guided him with purpose and clarity and every step he had taken was just another step on the path to his ultimate power. His destiny.

But Skywalker had just left his office, and Sidious suddenly felt doubt.

When looking at Skywalker in the past, there had always been three threads bound to his heart. One, thin and withered with time and distance had led to his mother. This thread had ever faded, but never disappeared until his mother's death. The second was the bond of romantic love that he shared with Amidala. If the two were ever in the same room, one could hardly see through the warm, gentle glow that was as strong as the twin suns of Tatooine. It pulsed and flowed strongly. No doubt, such a bond would be stronger still if they weren't constantly separated by distance and if Amidala had any sense of the Force. Still, despite Amidala's shortcomings and the distance Sidious kept between them, the bond flourished with power. Skywalker's natural talent, no doubt. Sidious was already controlling that bond.

The third thread, though not as resplendent as the one with Amidala but just as strong, had been to Kenobi. It was originally a pitiful, paltry little thing. It's only reason for existence had been because they were Master and Padawan.

Those early years had provided Sidious with the most sway over Skywalker in his machinations. But Kenobi had eventually stopped grieving his own master and started working on his bond with Skywalker.

Sidious had expected this. He had also expected the strong bond that eventually grew. After all, Kenobi and his master had had one of the strongest bonds the Jedi had seen in generations, and Skywalker was the Sith's Chosen One. A strong bond was natural; and when betrayal came, so sweet to destroy.

But when he'd seen Skywalker, something was different.

Normally, if Amidala or Kenobi were a distance away, the bonds would narrow to tiny threads as expected of any with a bond. Even Sidious's bonds with his various apprentices would be but threads with great distance.

This was no longer so with Skywalker's bond with Kenobi. At Skywalker's departure, Sidious had double checked Kenobi's position. He was on the Outer Rim, deep in some negotiation with some insignificant planet and Skywalker was finally preparing to meet him.

Yet before Sidious's eyes was not a thin, barely visible thread, but a thick wound cord that could fit in a man's hand, could it be grasped. And this was at a distance. Sidious wasn't sure he wanted to see what the bond looked like if both Skywalker and Kenobi were in the same room.

It was unheard of.

And if Kenobi had the amount of influence over Skywalker that Sidious expected he now did with a bond like that, his plans would be in jeopardy.

This was unacceptable.

Kenobi betraying Skywalker was no longer an option. Kenobi would have to be killed.

Immediately.

Even that was a risk, for if their minds were so tightly bound, Skywalker might not survive with his mind intact.

This was regrettable, but acceptable. Sidious had planned to make his Empire and destroy the Jedi before the Chosen One had been dropped into his lap. He could do so again.

For if Kenobi's and Skywalker's bond grew any stronger, the future Sidious had planned could be in peril; and Sidious wouldn't allow that.

"Darth Tyranus."

"_Yes, my Master_."

"Ensure Master Kenobi's death. Swiftly."

"_Of course, my Master._"

No questioning of the order at all. Tyranus was indeed a good apprentice. If Skywalker was no longer salvageable, Tyranus would continue to do well.

Until Sidious had his Empire. Then Tyranus would no longer be necessary.

Besides. Skywalker may yet become his apprentice. He had foreseen it, after all. So it must be. Sidious just had to make sure of it.

* * *

**Author's Note**: For all of you worried about Obi-Wan's imminent doom, don't. He's a stubborn, stubborn man, as Anakin can attest to, and he doesn't die easily. Or even get all that hurt, easily. He's a master of Soresu, after all.

Writing Sidious's view of things was both easy and difficult. Easy, because you have all the movies and EU to explain what he's been doing to turn Anakin to the Darkside. Difficult, because his mind is a truly twisted place to visit. We won't be going back there willingly ever again. Still, we've proven that he isn't just sitting on the sidelines. While we've focused a great deal with Anakin and Obi-Wan (obviously), Sidious is still orchestrating their lives with ease and simplicity. We are sad to see in fics that Palpatine is often almost obvious in his abilities in the Force and his hatred of Jedi and plans against them, and also obvious in standing against Obi-Wan. Sidious is _far_ too subtle for that. He's escaped notice for a reason. This shows a little on how he's been doing it. The trick is getting Anakin's loyalty and you DON'T get that if you put down Obi-Wan.

Also, for those of you wincing at the month break we'll be taking from this story, we say that A) It gives you, as readers, time to adjust to the fact that there will be another time-skip, albeit not so long of one and B) It gives US a chance to do vacation-y things. Like mixing and pouring concrete footings for toppled fences, massively-huge chipping piles, mailboxes broken by town snow-plows, and maybe actually going out and seeing a movie. You know. Little things like that.


	32. Where Lines are Followed

**Where Lines are Followed**

Yoda sat on his large round cushion that, by all rights, was at a proportion too large for his tiny withered frame. But those who visited him were more often than not larger than him, so he was used to things that were not to his smaller stature. The ancient master let out a long sigh, lighting some incense with a clawed hand. He had set aside this time to contemplate a matter that he had much growing concern over. Particularly since these Clone Wars started.

The matter was... unusual. But given the two that the matter concerned, the fact that it was unusual wasn't unusual.

To consider options, Yoda decided to follow a line. A line that started with himself. Jedi were all connected, a tangled web that bound them all together and to the Force. Such lines did not only go from Jedi to Jedi, but beyond, to everything a Jedi touched, every being a Jedi met, and even the very space they existed in. Because all was connected to the Force and the Force connected all. It was through these interwoven lines that a Jedi could see things no other being could. The past. The present. The future, though that was always difficult with its changing nature.

Following one of these lines could often lead to insight, and Yoda was an old master at studying lines and their patterns. Yet darkness had started to shroud the lines, obscuring them, hiding the brilliant patterns and weaves of the Force in its dark depths. The matter that Yoda wished to consider was, in particular, buried in uncertainty, the darkness obscuring the meaning of the matter and what the future held for it.

So if Yoda could not study the future of it, he looked to the past.

Families could often trace their lineages back, proud of what their families were, and the heritage passed on. Others liked to break from such lineages, strike out on their own to start a new line. Yet even if one did not acknowledge where one came from, the connection, the line, still existed.

This did not hold true for Jedi. Jedi, though still connected to families that gave them life, did not look back to heritages with pride or disgust. It was immaterial. Instead, they looked to their Order. And, though no Jedi liked the comparison, there were lineages and heritages within the Jedi Order. Only instead of parent and child, it was Master and Padawan.

Yoda bore many lines from himself, especially after such a long life and he never ceased to be amazed at what traits of his were passed on to each line that extended from him. Mace Windu, and the Padawans he had trained were all serious and dedicated, fierce defenders and bore quiet strength. Kit Fisto was relaxed and cheerful, as was his Padawan Bant Eerin, though she was just as shaped by her first master, Tahl. Ki-Adi-Mundi bore quiet courage that was passed to his all his Padawans. Tyvokka spoke his mind and his Padawan Plo Koon did through action.

But the line that Yoda wished to study was a line that seemed to bear his rebelliousness, in several forms.

Of course, if any Jedi heard someone describe Yoda as "rebellious", a healer would likely be called for.

But Yoda did have, even after all these centuries, streaks of what he called "rebellion" within himself. This trait was found most often when he was teaching the various younglings at the Temple. He would often orchestrate great jokes and pranks with the Initiates, using the excuse of training to lightly stir things up and spread some smiles amongst the often too-serious Jedi of the Temple.

Unfortunately, this rebellious streak was passed on in one of Yoda's Padawans: Count Dooku had been talented, brilliant, and became a capable, aristocratic Jedi Knight. Dooku had always been outspoken when he saw things that were wrong, something Yoda encouraged with temperance. Dooku was one who always sought to do everything he could to correct a wrong. Even, ultimately, leaving the Order. Even, ultimately, joining with the Separatists. Even, ultimately, becoming the Sith.

Yoda let out a sigh. Of this line, Dooku was the most... fervent in his rebellious streak. Having to fight his old Padawan had been... difficult. To see that Dooku, someone that Yoda had spent much time and effort and care in training, slice off Anakin Skywalker's arm after having already incapacitated Obi-Wan Kenobi made something in Yoda's heart twist. To then see Dooku prepare to slay two defenseless enemies... it just hurt, because Jedi were not meant to turn. It was part of why a Jedi's education lasted so long. It was why Yoda was so devoted to the younglings he would play pranks with, because he wanted each new generation to see the joy and peace of the Light. And knowing that the Light was always there for them, he prayed that children would never look to the Dark for an answer.

Dooku was the only apprentice Yoda ever trained that turned to the Darkside. As Grandmaster, Yoda had often, over the centuries, needed to console a fellow Jedi when an apprentice turned. Yet, hobbling into the hanger to see his own Padawan having not only turned, but had become a Sith, struck somewhere deep in Yoda's heart and all the advice and comfort he'd ever given to another Jedi was suddenly lost on himself. No Master should be faced with a turned Padawan. It was just too sad.

Yet Dooku's rebelliousness had continued in both his Padawans. Komari Vosa was ultimately denied Knighthood due to her highly aggressive nature and infatuation with her own master, and she fell into crime. Yoda had not heard of her since her departure, but he knew no good could become of her as things had stood.

Similarly, Qui-Gon Jinn was such a rebellious Jedi that he was often referred to as a maverick. And in this, Yoda could not help but smile. Qui-Gon had been a Jedi who only deferred to the High Council if forced to, a Jedi who followed the Living Force wherever and with whomever it took him. One could never deny that the Force guided Qui-Gon Jinn. After the fact. When actually working _with_ the maverick Knight, one very often doubted the Force was at work at all as Qui-Gon would get incredibly side-tracked with various beings that always seemed to need his direct attention at that immediate moment. Yoda had long lost count of just how many Jedi claimed it to be impossible to work with Qui-Gon. Even Yoda was often exasperated when the Knight brought a cause he was championing before the Council when _other_ business still needed tending to.

Qui-Gon was set to follow his own path and none could deter him from this. Once Yoda had realized that it was simply best to sit back and let the Force guide the Knight, he had fewer headaches and worries. It was Qui-Gon's rebellious streak, inherited from Yoda through Dooku. And it was a rebellious streak that got things done in an unorthodox, yet satisfactory manner.

Yet for all his maverick tendencies, Qui-Gon _did_ listen to the Council and their advice. It was merely a matter of whether or not it was pertinent at any given time. And sometimes, Qui-Gon would need a push for when the Force wished something that the Knight could not see.

Yoda had warned Qui-Gon of Xanatos. A Padawan who rebelled against the Jedi who had taken him from all he knew and loved: His father and his homeworld. Xanatos had arrived at the Temple, found by Qui-Gon at age three. Yoda had warned that the child was too old, but Qui-Gon championed his cause. The boy's abilities were never in doubt, but Yoda worried that knowledge of family would eventually lead to resentment.

It unfortunately did. The resultant disaster hurt Qui-Gon in a way that Yoda would not understand until seeing Dooku standing over Obi-Wan and young Skywalker in a hanger ready to kill the defenseless pair. Yoda had tried to show Qui-Gon the warning of the Force of Xanatos, but Qui-Gon could not see a future when the now required his aide. The old master had been unable to prevent the pain that Qui-Gon suffered through and could only offer words that had been used over the centuries when a promising Jedi turned away from his master and the Light.

So when Yoda saw the Force pointing to something that Qui-Gon could not see past his own suffering, he gave a small push to help things along. Such was always the best way to work with Qui-Gon. Thus, Obi-Wan Kenobi entered Qui-Gon's life and started to heal old wounds.

Obi-Wan was also a rebellious Jedi, though many looked at Obi-Wan, ever conservative and quiet, and wondered what rebellious streak Yoda spoke of. There was no denying that Obi-Wan was a stickler for the rules. But the adherence to those rules stemmed from a turbulent youth made difficult from anger. It all culminated when young Obi-Wan left the Jedi Order to defend a people he sympathized with. Since then, Obi-Wan had finally gotten a firmer control on his temper and stuck to the Code in order to keep said control of his temper.

But the rebellious streak remained. It was merely... tempered. When Obi-Wan found a cause to champion, he did a better job than even Qui-Gon Jinn. But Obi-Wan finding a cause to champion was no easy task. Various experiences such as uncertainty with Qui-Gon, rejections, and a natural tendency to blame himself for things beyond his control, had made Obi-Wan incredibly hesitant in giving his heart to something outside of the Jedi Order. And for Obi-Wan to champion a cause, he had to believe it with his entire heart and soul.

Granted, Obi-Wan had the same flare for unorthodox solutions that his master had, and in many ways, it was an inheritance from Qui-Gon. But unlike his master, Obi-Wan did not go for every cause he came across. His heart bore too many scars from his younger years to be so giving.

Thus far, there had been only one cause that Obi-Wan championed with all his might: Qui-Gon Jinn's last cause. Anakin Skywalker.

Yoda could not help in worrying about Obi-Wan. The old Grandmaster had many concerns over young Skywalker, and had voiced them to Obi-Wan. But the young Knight continued to train the child, regardless of what others said in concern. In fact, Obi-Wan now fought back against these concerns, politely, thoughtfully, and quietly. "I would not train him if I didn't know what a great Jedi he was going to be."

Yoda had yet to see what a "great Jedi" young Skywalker could be. But Obi-Wan saw something in the child that he believed in, heart and soul, and none could deter him. He would listen to concerns, take advice, and express gratitude that someone was thinking of him, but he would never abandon his Padawan. If Obi-Wan wasn't such an exemplary Jedi in all other matters, Yoda might be worried that the young Knight was too firmly attached to the child.

And young Skywalker, himself, was rebellion given legs and a mouth. And a lightsaber. Yoda had watched (and had) many Padawans over the centuries that were utter handfuls. Ones that needed strict teaching, ones that needed firm rules coupled with kind understanding, ones that rebelled so much they turned to the Darkside. And none of them, not one, could hold a candle to the handful that Anakin Skywalker was.

Yoda often wondered how Obi-Wan kept a handle on the child at all. Anakin Skywalker was willful, mischievous, curious, stubborn, arrogant, needy, emotional, and there was so much fear in him. Yet no Jedi could deny that he was talented. Oh-so very talented. Obi-Wan could walk into a hopeless situation that would mean certain death and with young Skywalker at his side; the two would walk back out unharmed. Even now, in the midst of war, the young Padawan had earned a reputation as The Hero With No Fear, the perfect companion of the Negotiator, the two making up The Team that could do anything.

But for all that the Force could bend to young Skywalker's will with barely a thought, Yoda had not seen him even begin to master himself. There was a strong tendency to anger and fear, so ingrained it was like Obi-Wan's tendency to blame himself for things that went wrong. Yet unlike Obi-Wan, Anakin Skywalker's natural tendencies could lead to the Darkside so very easily.

And if Anakin Skywalker fell to the Darkside, no Jedi alive could stop him.

Young Skywalker had not yet fallen to the Dark, indeed, there was no way of knowing with certainty that such an event would happen as Yoda had been sure of Xanatos. But the Padawan's future was ever clouded in darkness, obscured more than any other being Yoda had ever come across, and it made him uneasy.

There was no doubt that Obi-Wan's influence on young Skywalker was strong. Yoda would even go so far as to say that as long as Obi-Wan lived there was no way that the young Padawan would turn. But the connection between the two, the line, was the matter that concerned Yoda so much.

Obi-Wan had a tendency towards strong bonds. After so much turbulence and uncertainty during his early apprenticeship, when he latched on, it was firmly. Indeed, Obi-Wan's bond with Qui-Gon had been one of the strongest that the Order had seen in two centuries. It was really no wonder that Obi-Wan, in the shock of a snapping bond as Qui-Gon lay dying, was touched by the Darkside, for their bond had been almost as strong as one held between family.

And the bond between Obi-Wan and his Padawan was even stronger. Indeed, it was growing stronger almost by the hour, if one watched for it.

It had not always been that way. Bonds were always slow to form, needed nurturing and time and effort to grow, and once established, would never go away completely. Before the Clone Wars had started, the bond between Obi-Wan and young Skywalker had been so similar to the one between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, that sometimes Yoda had needed a moment to look again to ensure that Qui-Gon's spirit had not somehow appeared from the dead.

Once the Clone Wars had begun, however, the bond started to steadily strengthen. Slowly at first, and Yoda, who had taken to studying the bond as he noticed it's continual growth, noticed that the bond seemed to grow faster when the two were together. Separate missions slowed the strengthening of the bond, but Yoda knew that was because a bond needed both together to have it grow.

But if Yoda had thought the bond unnaturally strong after the Clone Wars started, that was nothing compared to the strength of it after Obi-Wan had returned from Rattatak. As the Knight had lay in surgery, cut off from the Force after many long hours of not touching it through the Sith Mask he'd been forced to wear, and unintentionally siphoning off pain to young Skywalker, Yoda had watched, somewhere between stunned and fascinated, as Anakin Skywalker sank into meditation and forcibly _widened_ the bond to reach into Obi-Wan's chaotic mind and _grab_ the pain to release to the Force.

It had been both amazing and frightening to watch how young Skywalker's natural gift with the Force seemed to break every known rule that existed.

Yoda had assigned himself the task of helping Obi-Wan release his trauma to the Force. In part, it was because he cared for the young Knight after watching over him for his entire life, but it was also to watch the bond between Master and Padawan. The two, by all rights, should have been severely scarred after young Skywalker's rough treatment of the bond. Yet all that lingered was a brief headache that Yoda was uncertain was shared or not for a few days.

As Yoda had taken Obi-Wan through mediations, he'd been surprised to see the young Padawan join them as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a Padawan _Learner_ to help his Master through even the most simple meditations. Even more surprising was how much Obi-Wan readily leaned on Anakin for support.

The two treaded meditation as equals instead of Master and Padawan.

It was something Yoda had never seen before.

Yoda wondered at the repercussions of it. Which was why he had sat down to meditate on it.

Some of the results of the close bond were already being reported without anyone realizing it. With all the filing done during a war, it was, for many, easier to simply take a verbal report and go from there. Indeed, many of the Council were so busy with both fighting and planning that they would merely listen to a report and sense things out with the Force, rather than sit down and start wading through files of the officers involved to get specifics.

Yoda did this as well. The rigmarole of running an army was tedium that he simply did not have the time for. But he made a point of looking at such reports as Captain Rex or Commander Cody. Those were where interesting facts lay.

And those facts were astonishing.

A bond could allow direct communications of thoughts only if it was strong and over a short distance. Yet young Skywalker and Obi-Wan seemed to be able to communicate as clearly as being in the same room despite parsecs of distance. Indeed, they seemed to be able to influence each other, if Commander Cody's report of Commander Skywalker "waking up" General Kenobi was as accurate as it was unbelievable.

They were able to coordinate in the middle of battle to a degree that even simple comm's couldn't allow. Separatists who were jamming communications could ambush Young Skywalker, yet Obi-Wan would already be on his way with reinforcements. Reports would put General Kenobi deep in Separatist space, alone on recon, and Commander Skywalker would be relaying the information as soon as General Kenobi came upon it.

The efficiency of it for war was staggering, almost frightening. There was no denying the practicality of what they had and what they did with it.

What concerned Yoda was more personal: not how battles or wars were fought, but the stability and long-term effects of almost sharing minds entirely. Could the two truly block anything from each other? Any being in the galaxy needed the privacy of their own thoughts, and could either Obi-Wan or his Padawan manage that? Jedi were often concerned about what would happen if a bond suddenly flared with pain or distraction during a battle. It was why shielding was so important. But if these two could not shield everything, what happened if the other was in danger?

What would happen to young Skywalker if Obi-Wan fell into Ventress's hands again?

Thankfully, such a heinous event had not occurred, nor would it if Yoda had any say in the matter, but the fact remained that Master and Padawan were deep in uncharted territory, and forging deeper by the hour. No one in the Halls of Healing would be able to help one of them if the other fell.

The bond could be extremely dangerous for them. But with the bond's future so clouded in darkness, Yoda was hesitant to do anything about it without more knowledge.

"Mace, welcome you, I do," Yoda greeted, opening his eyes and retreating from his study of the line.

The stern-looking master bowed, his frown looking grim, no doubt having just come from another war meeting.

"Yoda, we are due at the Chancellor's soon."

"Hnnn, yes, yes," Yoda waved a hand, brushing aside the meeting. "A question, I have."

Mace blinked, his stern face loosening slightly as he sat on another round cushion. "Yes?"

Yoda blinked his sleepy-looking eyes and folded his hands. "An opinion, have you, on the Kenobi-Skywalker bond?"

The bald master leaned back, closing his eyes to consider. Yoda gave him the chance to think. It was, indeed, a complicated matter.

"I... do not like it," Mace answered slowly. "Darkness obscures their bond. I do not think any good came come from such a strong bond."

"Strong, he says," Yoda mumbled to himself. "Strong, the word is not. _Deep_. Very deep is their bond. No longer visible are the roots, so deep, they are."

Mace nodded. "Which is why I believe it is dangerous."

"Hmmmm," Yoda let out a small sigh. "A solution to this bond, have you?"

He looked away because that was where the problem lay. Once a bond was formed, it could never be removed. Masters and Padawans merely drifted away, no longer working on the bond since neither needed it any more. Instead, it was carefully shielded and time away from one another helped ease it shut. Never removed, but closed, so that it could not interfere in the direst of moments.

When Mace looked back, he squared his shoulders. Yoda knew he would not like the suggestion.

"Padawan Skywalker had done an exemplary job during this war. Leading troops, winning battles. The media loves him and wonders when he will be Knighted. Perhaps it's time we should."

Yoda's eyelids sank in sadness and his shoulders drooped in disappointment. "So anxious are you, to Knight a Jedi not yet ready?"

"He has great talent in the Force; he is a charismatic leader of troops. His strategies in battle are unorthodox, but brilliant." Mace sighed, his rigid control of self, slipping. "We lose far too many Jedi in this war. We need more generals."

"Hmmm." The old Jedi could see Mace's point. The war was costly. Jedi were falling left and right, under-prepared for such long battles. They were peacekeepers, not soldiers, yet only the Jedi had experience in battle to lead troops. Already, Padawans were being promoted simply to start filling in spaces that were emptying far too quickly.

Yoda shook his head. "Ready for Knighthood, young Skywalker is not. Mastery of the Force, yes, yes he has. But mastery of self? Not even begun, hmmm." A pause. "No, not ready for knighting. Not ready at all."

Mace's frowned. "Then what do you suggest, Yoda?"

"Quite the conundrum this is. Quite the conundrum." Yoda slipped off his cushion, gimmer stick at hand, to hobble over to his hoverchair. It would not do to be late for the Chancellor, there was simply too much to do. "Knighthood, no. But solo missions? Learn independence, all Senior Padawans must." Distance would at least slow the progress of the growing bond. It would give them time, and if Yoda could call Obi-Wan back to Coruscant, perhaps the two of them could talk about it, amidst all the war and strategy meetings. Study what was going on and gather more information to decide a course of action.

It was merely a delay and Yoda knew it. But they needed more time and more information.

The line was shrouded in darkness. It was only natural to hesitate before stirring at it.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Hehehe. Before any of you go saying that Yoda is a big meanie, please understand his point of view. He's looking at something that's going too far, too fast and he wants to study it before Obi-Wan and Anakin get too far. Similarly, Anakin hasn't done anything to master himself, and you _need_ to in order to become a Jedi. These are legitimate concerns. Solo missions would be how _most_ people get to master themselves. Too bad Anakin isn't most people. And with the distance that he and Obi-Wan can communicate, "solo" isn't really true. Yoda's still going to try though. ^_^

And next week: Anakin is finally knighted and the two of us can go do vacation-y things!


	33. Where Anakin is Knighted

**Where Anakin is Knighted**

Attachment.

If there was one thing that the Jedi as a group feared, it was attachment. History dictated over and over that Jedi fell because of attachment; became Sith because of attachment; wrought destruction because of attachment. They took these hard won lessons to heart, and so it was that, over time, a system was constructed to prevent attachment on any and all levels of a being's psyche.

It was best to start young - before attachments were fully formed. This was the first and most obvious thing the public ever saw the Jedi do. If a child was taken extremely young, before their memory centers could finish imprinting their parents, a difficult attachment to break: family. This, however, was only the beginning of their training.

Clans played a key role in the next phase of indoctrination. Instead of having the one-on-one time with a youngling that parents had with their children, clan heads had a one-on-many. The first purpose in this was to show younglings that they were part of a group. It trained them to think in the collective - perhaps not to the level of the Acronans who said "we" instead of "I," but to realize that to succeed one needed to work together with their clan mates. "Success," then, in the eyes of a youngling, was very simply a display of affection from the clan head - praise of a job well done, a reward of sweets, or the much coveted hug or pat on the head.

The second purpose of the clans was to monitor. Because they spent every day with the younglings, clan heads could find those that were attachment prone - in other words, the ones that went out of their way to gain the attention of the clan head in either a positive or negative light. These were the younglings that went above and beyond helping their clan and be disappointed when they were not singled out for praise, or those that would deliberately break rules or were unruly in order to single out the clan head's focus. When a predetermined number of these incidents occurred, the youngling would be pulled aside and given the lecture about attachment.

Because of their age, this was often watered down to: "I know what you want but I will not give it; because it is not what you _need_. A Jedi should not 'want,' because want is selfish. I can't give you something that bad." Once this occurred the clan head would deliberately ignore the youngling's cries for attention until he or she learned the lesson.

Also, during these crucial formative years, Master Yoda was their instructor in the ways of the Force while the clan heads handled the more academic subjects. It was universally agreed that Yoda was the best at teaching younglings how to access the Force without feeling, with a clear mind and instinct that would serve them in later years.

Once at age seven, younglings became Initiates, and the search for a master began. It was no accident that this age was chosen, because this was the age that a child's psyche became fixed and, if not, the Initiate had time to work on themselves before a master would choose him or her. A series of tests were run on the Initiates, academic and practical but also psychological, to assess their readiness for apprenticeship. Once they passed, the tournaments began.

For the Initiate, it was the first time they had to think for themselves _outside_ their clan. On their own, they had to find something about themselves that a master would be attracted to. The monitored Initiates, those prone to attachment, by that point had been lectured and talked to enough that they could cross this hurdle. Some, however, could not.

This was the case with Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace reflected.

Kenobi, so desperate for attachment, did not look to himself to find a quality that shined, but rather tried to exude some quality he thought the masters were looking for, and his anger at being passed over leaked through. It was this that had him shipped off to the AgriCorps, along with the other Initiates that failed the attachment tests.

The training bond created between Master and Padawan, then, was the first true "attachment" they were given in their lives, and by that point most considered it not a bond but a tool in which to learn. It was because of this perception that Jedi could be safely encouraged to nurture the bond, build it and form it as a clan head would not; the deeper the bond, the more could be taught.

While the system was strong it was not infallible, and it was not uncommon for Padawan's with attachment problems to slip through the cracks. After a time, these Padawans were tested - and they would either pass, as Kenobi did after the death of Qui-Gon, or they would fail, as Xanatos did when he was reunited with his father. Often these tests doubled as Trials, because by that point it was a given that the attachment problem would be with the Padawan for the rest of his or her life; and so the Padawan needed to do what any Jedi would do - overcome the character flaw.

The bond itself was nothing more than a link between two minds. The link would develop primarily through getting to know one's Padawan, and this was done simply by living together - learning sleep patterns, common circles of thought, personality trends, work ethic, favorite foods, the hundreds of choices made over the course of the day. Once the master knew the Padawan, it was easier to use Force empathy and other skills to learn about the Padawan more thoroughly in order to better instruct the student.

It was common practice, then, to hold off on teaching shielding to a Padawan until two or three years into an apprenticeship. This served two purposes: it prevented trouble on missions where discretion was necessary - a practical function; and it made a check and balance to the bond. If a Master received an attachment driven Padawan, the shielding gave the master a level of protection and the Padawan another lesson on attachment.

The secondary way the bond developed was through usage - usually through meditation. Taking a Padawan through different sutras of the Code or doing a guided self-reflection or pre-visualization of a mission often made a Master and Padawan closer, because of a shared mind. Over the last thousand years, it had been demonstrated that a bond could only grow so deep, get so far, because of the deliberately designed teacher-student relationship of the meditations.

Deeper bonds were achievable - almost always with those that were attachment-prone, but the next step - the Knighting - prevented bonds from growing too strong. The braid was cut and the newly minted knight spent the next one to five years on solo missions. Those years of disuse would make the bond fade over time, breaking the attachment. This was the last step in making the Jedi entirely self-sufficient, teaching them at last that he or she needed no attachment to be successful, and when the new Jedi reflected this attitude in their mission reports, they were given a Padawan to repeat their lessons to the younger generation.

It had worked for the Jedi for a thousand years.

They brought light to civilization - the Republic - for generation after generation. In a way, this system was the pinnacle of their success.

Mace stood in the dark circle, hood drawn up as everyone else had. The chamber was in utter darkness.

It was, at least, until the lightsabers ignited.

Anakin Skywalker stood in the center of the circle.

Anakin Skywalker. The Chosen One.

When they had first met, Qui-Gon proclaiming the boy conceived by midi-chlorians, the youngling had an uncanny ability with the Force. The tests were extraordinary; the raw talent was almost unbelievable. But he was too _old_. He did not have the right indoctrination; his attachment to his mother and his fear for her welfare were palpable to everyone on the Council. All the critical work done in the formative years was _missing_.

They had two choices: let him loose on the galaxy untrained. Or not. That was what Kenobi told the Council in his report; that agonizing report detailing the death of his master, Qui-Gon's final plea, and the return of the Sith.

The Sith! Even a thousand years after the fact, the Jedi well remembered the horror of the Sith Wars. And there was the boy, more than ready to be seduced by them. Already partly seduced, because of his attachment issues.

The Council recoiled at the idea of the Sith having that kind of weapon.

The decision to train Skywalker was obvious after that.

Now, a dozen years later, Mace reflected on that decision.

The choice of a master for the boy was a difficult one. It was necessary to find a Knight who not only could expertly teach the basics that Yoda normally instructed, but also one who could shield against Skywalker's natural proclivity to attachment, _and_ properly undo those ten odd years of reckless abandon that the boy had experienced. That was a very tall order, and there were very few Jedi indeed who could do all of those things.

There was also the issue that Kenobi was insisting that he be the one to train the boy. This was fiercely contested, and with good reason. He was untested, a Knight for barely a few days at the time. He did not have the requisite time alone on missions to secure his already shaky foundation of attachment. Worse, he was proven over and over to have problems _with_ attachment: he was sent to AgriCorps before he and Qui-Gon spontaneously formed a bond. He left the order - however temporarily - because he felt attachment to the Young on Melida/Daan. He touched the Dark Side because of his anger at the loss of his master just scant days before. Kenobi, at the time, was one of the worst possible choices to train the boy.

And yet he had pursued the job doggedly, using his burgeoning skills in negotiation and, ultimately, playing the card that it was Qui-Gon's last wish. Whatever people thought of Qui-Gon Jinn, in the end he had a charm that besmirched even the most rigid of the Council, and his heartfelt plea had touched everyone.

Except Yoda.

He had vehemently protested against even taking young Skywalker, and because of these obvious problems (and perhaps others that Mace could not foresee) he refused to condone the decision.

At first, in the beginning years, the Council had dared to think that they had made a wise decision. Kenobi was a strict taskmaster and a gifted teacher, and Skywalker loved to learn. The pair was closely monitored for signs of attachment, and though their bond had become uncommonly strong, familial bonding - the greatest fear they had - did not seem to occur. If anything, there seemed to be a rugged edge in their relationship that kept them at a distance to each other. It caused problems on missions, certainly, but most of the Council thought this would be good for the both of them. It prevented attachment.

Or so they thought.

Then the War started.

In the last two years, their bond grew to exuberant levels; well beyond anything anyone had ever seen. Somehow their training bond had become so complete as to be physically visible in the Force, a giant cord that connected the two minds. What had happened to create this unheard of strength, Mace did not know. He suspected Yoda might have an inkling; Mace knew that the grandmaster had spent many a meditation on it. He first noticed it after Kenobi's return from the dead; his escape and rescue from Dooku's apprentice, Ventress. As he gave his report, Mace could see the deep connection he had to Skywalker - to be expected, he had first assumed, given Kenobi's mental state and Skywalker's tendency to help those in need. Those thoughts slowly changed as he watched Kenobi scattered state constantly be pulled back by his Padawan. Not through words or physical gestures, but through the _bond_ - normally an impossible feat - which upon closer inspection had become some kind of shatterpoint.

_That_ little revelation had given him pause. The bond had overnight become something that was more than slightly important, and the Force was so clouded with the Dark Side that neither he nor Yoda could understand what. The depth of the bond was frightful, Mace could not fathom what it would be like to be that deeply connected to someone; and he worried about how it manifested. He read their respective reports: the exuberant distances at which they could communicate, the level of detail their telepathy could perform.

It was astonishing, and, if he dared to admit it, a little frightening. He did not understand it, how it had come to be, why it had happened, and questioning either Kenobi or Skywalker on that front brought odd answers. The boy often became instantly defensive - asking what did it matter if it got the job done before spinning on his heel and walking away. Kenobi was more forthcoming, but he seemed just as confused on how it had occurred as the others. His memories immediately after his rescue were sketchy at best, and so he could only try to explain what it was like. He reassured Mace and Yoda - several times - that Skywalker didn't know what happened either, with a certainty that startled Mace. Kenobi was always very weary of what he said about his Padawan, always very tentative to point out a character flaw in his pupil like his arrogance or his lack of self-mastery; but now he said things about his Padawan with utter conviction, even confidence. It was as if he now understood his Padawan, inside and out.

Mace and Yoda both feared the damage that would happen to the two of them if one were seriously hurt, or even killed. They had tried different things to curb the growth of the bond, but in the end nothing had worked.

After Kenobi was granted the title of Master; his very first motion was to push for Skywalker to be Knighted. His continued efforts on the front lines showed his passing the Trial of Skill and the Trial of Courage both; the loss of his arm was the Trial of Flesh; and he enigmatically said that Skywalker had passed his Trial of Spirit many, many times.

The Council ultimately agreed, hoping that the end of the apprenticeship would somehow affect the training bond.

With their sabers pointed to the ground, the Council members eyed young Skywalker. Measuring. Gauging. He had spent the last twenty-four hours in the Hall of Knighthood, deep in meditation. Kenobi had spent the same time with the Council, getting some much needed work done before the ceremony; and he would occasionally smile, his eyes growing distant, before he would get back to work. When questioned he would simply say that, "Anakin had a good moment in his meditation."

Even now, Mace could see micro expressions flitting back and forth on Skywalker's face, and a glance showed the same with Kenobi. They were sharing this ceremony on a level Mace had once again never seen before.

"Jedi, we all are. Speaks through us, the Force does. Through our actions, proclaims itself and what is real the Force does. Here today we are, to acknowledge what the Force has proclaimed."

Skywalker's face swelled with pride, and behind him Kenobi's did as well. Mace found himself wondering whose it was.

Yoda turned his large green eyes to Skywalker, the boy staring back. The moment held, tension and anticipation and energy filling the room. Yoda had not wanted this; he did not feel Skywalker was ready, but the need for Knights was simply too great. They needed more generals. So,

"Step forward, Padawan."

Skywalker did so, lifting himself from his kneeling position and confidently coming forward. "Anakin Skywalker, by the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, dub thee I do, Jedi," and with a flourish Yoda's green lightsaber flashed unbearably close. The sound of burning hair was brief, almost invisible compared to the hum of the lightsaber, but everyone could see the brown-and-blond braid spinning away from the former Padawan, "Knight of the Republic."

Perhaps in his first ever sign of respect to him; Anakin Skywalker bowed his head in deference to Yoda.

Mace stepped forward.

"Take up your lightsaber, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. And may the Force be with you."

Skywalker lit his 'saber; and the twelve Council members lifted theirs in salute, the end of the ceremony.

Mace watched the look between Kenobi and Skywalker, watched their bond with intense interest to see what would happen with the link of teacher-student broken - with the _attachment_ broken.

And everything _shifted_.

Kenobi stepped up to Skywalker, lowering his hood and grinning broadly. He put a firm hand on his shoulder, and Anakin looked down with a small smile, looking almost shy. He lifted his head with a cocky grin, however, and looked down at his former master. "We're equals, now," he said.

"Yes," Kenobi agreed quietly. "At last in name."

The grin broadened. "I'm still better than you," he said in coy mockery.

Kenobi returned the grin. "And you still have much to learn, my overzealous Padawan."

"You can't call me that any more, Master."

"And _you_ can't call _me_ that any more."

They shared a small laugh, and Mace openly stared as he felt their bond _thunk_ into place, almost as if at last it was where it was supposed to be. He looked at Yoda and saw that he, too, had witnessed the shift. What did this mean? What was to happen? Even Yoda was losing the ability to see the future, just as Mace's skill at seeing shatterpoints had diminished.

Neither could say what the repercussions of this would be.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Yay! The Clone Wars are finally done! No more going back and adding parts, no more read-throughs to see if the flow is fixed, no more dragging our feet with fight sequences that we have no clue how to do! (collapses over keyboard) We're dooooooone...

Now to get Real-Life work done... See you in a month.

And for those curious, you'll know if there is Ahsoka or not in the next chapter.


	34. Where Dinner Is Fun

**Where Dinner Is Fun**

Ahsoka Tano, young Padawan of Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, staggered forward as her master let his arm wrap around her shoulder while he grinned. His master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, wise High Council member, was across from them on the turbolift, looking sternly amused.

"Well, Obi-Wan, I bet you're glad that I'm kidnapping you from your Council duties."

Obi-Wan was clearly trying not to look pleased. "In case you couldn't tell, my old Padawan, we're in the middle of a war. The Council is beyond swamped, buried, and surrounded with work to do."

"But this is the first time Snips gets to come as well."

Ahsoka blinked. "Wait, what? I'm coming along where?" All Anakin had said was that he needed her help getting Obi-Wan to relax while he could. She had gone with him to plead that Master Kenobi needed a break. But then her master and Obi-Wan had drifted off. Ahsoka was very familiar with this. Despite having been Knighted, Anakin and his old master maintained their training bond and could use it both frequently and over vast distances that Ahsoka had thought impossible.

But then, being with Anakin Skywalker, one tended to redefine impossible. Frequently.

Whatever her master had said in the bond had made Obi-Wan agree almost instantly, leaving Ahsoka to wonder what she had missed.

"Her first time?" Obi-Wan asked. "The two of you have both been here together enough to have..." The Master's voice trailed off as he looked to Anakin with a raised eyebrow.

Turning to glance at her master, Ahsoka was astonished to see him blushing. Blushing!

"Well, Snips had studies to catch up on so..."

To Ahsoka's further surprise, _Obi-Wan_ started to blush. "My forthright old Padawan," he squeaked. "_Too much information._"

Anakin, still blushing, stood tall, shrugging nonchalantly. "You asked."

"I most certainly did."

Ahsoka interrupted, repeating her question. "I'm coming along _where_?" she turned petulant eyes to her master in a look she always hoped would work but never quite did.

Anakin glanced at her, then turned to Obi-Wan. "Surely I wasn't this bad."

"Oh no. You were _worse_," he replied with a smile.

Her master grumbled words she wasn't supposed to know the meaning of and turned to her. "Patience, Snips," he winked at her. "I know you're going to enjoy tonight."

Ahsoka pouted.

* * *

Anakin held his impatience as they left the Temple that evening. It had been five months since he'd seen Padme. Granted, they'd talked when able, but fuzzy small holograms just weren't the same.

He'd missed her. While away, he'd only ever had a sense of her and now that he was back on Coruscant, he could feel and bask in her warm heart anywhere on the planet. But it still wouldn't be the same as holding her in his arms. The bond he'd made with her was strong, but limited. And, when she'd learned he could hear her thoughts clear as day whenever he was on planet, she'd been uncomfortable. Understandably so since she couldn't shield herself at all. So Anakin had kept a privacy screen between them. If she was thinking particularly loudly, he'd hear, but she otherwise was just a gentle murmur.

For some time now, he'd felt an overwhelming joy from her, one she would awkwardly try to send to him and he was getting _very_ curious on what had her glowing so brightly with joy and with undercurrents of worry.

Hopefully, he'd find a way to have Obi-Wan take Ahsoka back to the Temple so she could talk more freely to him.

It was something Anakin wasn't completely comfortable with. When he and Padme had married, they had both discussed for a long time who, if anyone, could know. Padme, regrettably, said none in her family could be in on the secret. Her nieces weren't old enough to understand secrecy and her parents and sister, though not politicians, knew enough people that if anything slipped, it could be pieced together. This was also why Anakin had never told his friend Palpatine.

Telling Obi-Wan had been their first fight. Padme, fresh from Geonosis, remembered what he'd said about how his master had said he'd be expelled from the Order if he'd gone to save her. Anakin, who didn't mind blaming Obi-Wan for that, _did_ understand what his master had meant.

Obi-Wan had been trying to pierce the emotional haze of _Protect Padme_ and remind him of the duty he'd sworn to do. And though Anakin hated admitting it, it sometimes took something that harsh to penetrate his thick skull.

There had also been the fact that Anakin had still been living with Obi-Wan and was by his side every day. Even if he _had_ kept quiet about it, there was no doubt in Anakin's mind that Obi-Wan would still have _known_. Not the details, necessarily, but that something was there. Besides, Obi-Wan said he'd support Anakin if he still wanted to marry Padme.

In the end, Padme had agreed.

Neither had counted on Anakin getting a Padawan.

Ahsoka, they had decided, was still too young. But they wouldn't hide that they were close. After all, Padme had opened her home to the Jedi and on very rare occasions, another Knight would join Anakin and Obi-Wan for a pleasant dinner of no stress or worries.

But outright lying, even by omission, to his Padawan felt wrong. Anakin wanted people to be straight with him as he always tried to be with others.

Ahsoka would likely learn eventually. Both he and Padme agreed on that. The question was _when_.

This was the same question on the bond he had with his young Padawan. Her potential in the Force was impressive. He had no doubt she'd make a strong Knight and a wise Master. But she wasn't there _yet._ She didn't have strong shielding down, and she'd need that for when their bond deepened. For Anakin _was_ planning on deepening the bond with her. He cared too much not to. Having her presence in the back off his head would be a great relief, as Obi-Wan's and Padme's were.

But she wasn't there yet. Instead, he worked on his end of the bond. He could hear her thoughts as clearly as Padme's if he wished and over a decent distance, though nowhere near as far as he could with Obi-Wan. But Ahsoka was still so very young and prone to outbursts of emotions that were very strong. Curiosity and petulance being amongst the most common. Thus he needed to retain a constant shield in order to get things done.

Teaching her was... interesting. Given how much they were on the front lines, lightsaber techniques were an area he had to focus on intensely, just so she could _survive_ long enough to learn more. Shielding was important as well, not only for the bond, but also with all the Dark Acolytes that Dooku had crisscrossing the galaxy.

With those two areas of intense concentration and constant battle and missions, there had been little time to teach her much else. It was frustrating that she was lagging so far behind in other areas such as mind tricks and the finer control of telekinesis. There was simply no time. And his little Padawan had a huge and caring heart that she couldn't quite control when things got desperate. She would keep fighting a losing battle rather than withdraw and regroup, and she could easily get overwhelmed when there were multiple things on her plate to deal with.

Hopefully, now that they were back on Coruscant (he dreaded just how short the visit would be this time) Anakin could spend a little time with her to deal with some of these things. He couldn't leave it all to her teachers at the Temple. And there were teachings in the Temple that he didn't agree with that he was going to have to ease Ahsoka into _really_ thinking about.

Of course, Anakin worried constantly on if he was doing the right thing with Ahsoka. He knew his thoughts on things and how he approached problems was a little... different than the average Jedi. He was, in many ways, charting new territory, and despite his bravado and confidence, he knew he was on shaky ground at best. He'd never trained a Padawan before, hell, he didn't even have much experience with the younglings other than occasionally having the duty of helping in the crèche.

Naturally, he'd gone to Obi-Wan on many occasions to see if he was doing right by his Padawan. And his master, radiating amusement across the bond so strongly that Anakin couldn't help but smile, would always say that Anakin was doing fine and that Obi-Wan would _not_ interfere in his teaching of her.

What was unusual, however, was how often these reassurances were given to Anakin while he was at one end of the galaxy and his master at another end. Granted, they couldn't talk clearly at halfway from one rim to another, but impressions could still be freely transmitted with general understanding if Anakin was on the Outer Rim and Obi-Wan was back on Coruscant for a Council meeting.

Indeed, Anakin couldn't shield out his master any more. Instead, all he and Obi-Wan could do was to place filters along the bond so that what came through was diluted enough so as not to be a distraction, especially in battle. If Anakin ever sat and thought about what the two of them could _really_ do with the bond, it was actually a little scary. Obi-Wan had once asked him in clearly amazed exasperation, to please _stop_ redefining impossible after Anakin had explained that his mind was basically parallel processing the here and now with Obi-Wan's constant chatter in the back of his mind.

Even from the Core to the Mid Rim, both Obi-Wan or Anakin could look through the other's eyes and ears with filters down and they could strategize together through the Force as if they were one mind instead of two.

It was both amazing and terrifying. Even now, as they were headed up to Padme's apartment to have a nice relaxing dinner of laughter, Anakin was shifting in nervous anticipation, completely living in the moment as Qui-Gon had taught Obi-Wan who had taught Anakin, a part of him was poking Obi-Wan about the Council meeting and what was wrong _this_ time while another part of him was observing Ahsoka's attempts to control her curiosity over just what was so special about having dinner with a Senator, and another part of him was basking in the warm, nervous joy Padme was unconsciously projecting about _something_. All simultaneously.

The doors to the turbolift opened, and Threepio was already there to greet them.

* * *

Ahsoka sat back into the soft cushions of the couch, astonished at how much fun they'd had. There was no doubt in her mind that Anakin and Obi-Wan were frequent guests here as they both displayed a familiarity and comfort in the apartment, complete with Obi-Wan, ever the proper gentleman, did the unusual and went to help in the kitchen. The meal itself had been all of Ahsoka's favorites, and she _had_ to wonder when her master had the chance to tell Padme. And while the meal had been delicious, the _conversation_ was fantastic.

It seemed stories were the currency of the table. It was a simple game, tell a good story and you'd get a good-sized helping of whatever was available. The more amusing or heart-warming the story, the better chance you got at getting a helping. Once Padme had explained the rules, she'd looked to Anakin and Obi-Wan and told them in no uncertain terms that teasing each other was _out_ of the question.

That didn't last long.

Obi-Wan was a master at story-telling, particularly of her master's younger years of embarrassment, always painting Anakin as an inquisitive child who seemed to find more trouble than a Kowakian monkey-lizard, leaving himself as a stressed master who was ever put-upon. Anakin, by contrast, was also a master of story-telling, particularly of Obi-Wan getting into less-than-flattering situations, starting with Obi-Wan losing his lightsaber (multiple times, no less) and upgrading to Obi-Wan's almost constant need to be rescued like some damsel-in-distress.

This isn't to say that Padme was to be outdone. Though her stories had a great deal to do with her nieces and her family, like Obi-Wan and Anakin had many stories of each other, she also seemed to collect stories of just how close her master and his master were.

Those stories just seemed to make Ahsoka's heart swell. The two of them bore so much compassion for each other. There were tales of both seeking to rescue the other side-by-side stories of one taking care of the other. Of course, to counter all this, Anakin had several stories of Padme's own kindness and Ahsoka smiled at the easy friendship between the two of them.

Back at the Temple, Ahsoka knew that her master was the Chosen One. That there were a lot of expectations of him and that he was, no matter how unintentionally, set apart from the rest of the Jedi. Anakin always worked well with the Jedi, but Ahsoka had realized early on that he was close, or even friends with very, very few. It made him seem distant and a little cold, despite his open heart, but she was starting to understand. As she had gotten to know him, she'd realized that Chosen One or not, her master was still just a _person_. And she wondered how many other Jedi realized that.

But to see him laughing and having fun like other Jedi would in the commissary, just made Ashoka smile. She was so very grateful that Padme could bring this out in him like Obi-Wan could when unencumbered by missions and battle.

So Ahsoka offered her own stories, both of her friend Bariss Offee, her master, Senator Chuchi, Master Plo, etc. (She had to admit, the meat-pie was _divine_!) And, just to show that she could, she pulled out the _one_ story she had of Master Obi-Wan that was so out-of-character embarrassing; she easily trumped her master without breaking a sweat.

All in all, very satisfying.

"Okay, Snips," her master sat across from her. He had this look on his face that made Ahsoka just _know_ she was in for it. "You handled dinner well. Now let's see what we can do about the _proper_ entertainment."

Despite the fact that she was internally cringing, already knowing she was about to get one of Anakin's more unusual lessons, she didn't let any of it show. Instead, she just raised an eyebrow, slid on a crooked smile, and said, "Do you need me to tickle you, Master?"

"That would be my job," Padme sat down by Anakin. "No, Ahsoka, now comes a game."

"Oh this should be _quite_ interesting. Anakin, I think I'll just sit back and watch."

"No way, Obi-Wan. It'll be me and Padme versus you and Snips. She'll need all the help she can get."

Obi-Wan sat by Ahsoka. "Oh, aren't you confident."

"Naturally."

"Stop it you two," Padme scolded, though her stern face was betrayed by the twitching smile.

From under the table, she pulled out a small, gleaming wooden box opening it, she tipped it, letting the contents spill over the coffee table. "This is a very simple game, Ahsoka. Match the clamshells together."

"There will be a small difference for us than Padme," Anakin explained, grinning widely. "Since she's not sensitive to the Force, she'll be using her eyes to match the shells together. The rest of us will be doing it blind."

Ahsoka blinked. "... _What_?" she demanded. "Blind? But how are we supposed to-"

Obi-Wan put a hand on her shoulder. "Patience," he said, ever the teacher despite how many times he'd told Anakin that he wouldn't interfere in her training. "Use the Force. Don't force an answer, feel it."

She tried to. It didn't help that her master was radiating smugness to distract her.

_Anakin, do stop that_, she thought she heard Obi-Wan whisper.

_Aw, come on, Master. It's fun_.

_ Hush_.

And with the quiet, Ahsoka finally understood. "Whoa. These shells, they're Force sensitive?"

"Yup," Anakin replied. "You need to feel which belongs with which."

Oh yes. Ahsoka was _definitely_ getting schooled.

Padme merely smiled, shuffling the shells. "It's fun, Ahsoka. See how many you can get before these two louts start cheating."

"_Cheating_? Padme! Obi-Wan and I would _never_ cheat!"

"Milady, I am only defending my shells."

"Oh yes, pardon me," she said dryly. "Can you two keep the antics down enough so that we can get through _one_ round with Ahsoka?"

"Of course," they both readily agreed. Obi-Wan, Ahsoka knew, would keep that promise. Her master, however...

All three Jedi closed their eyes and Ahsoka opened herself up to the Force, listening to the bubbling laughter of the shells calling out for their mate. When Padme shouted for them to get started, she started reaching, clumsily bumping her hands against the other's as she grabbed for the two shells she found that seemed to go together.

What Ahsoka wasn't counting on while reaching for the shells that went together, was the joyous laughter and singing of the shells already mated. The happy chorus was louder as more shells were matched. The laughter was contagious, both herself and Padme giggling as the game continued, and though Ahsoka couldn't see them, she knew her master and Obi-Wan were smiling.

The game got really interesting when, by Ahsoka's estimate, half the shells had been paired. Along their training bond, she could feel Anakin getting mischievous. And, as if the singing shells weren't enough of a distraction, there was a surge in the Force that was fast and subtle and she almost thought she'd missed it. Until the shell she had just been grabbing slid out of her hand.

She growled, but kept working, reaching again for the shell, only to have it gone when she reached for it. Not liking where this was going, Ahsoka reached into the Force herself to grab the shell she wanted. This resulted in a tug-o-war between her and her master, as they yanked and pulled the shell, mirth bubbling up from them both.

Obi-Wan gave a great (though amused) sigh beside her and continued collecting shells while Padme laughed outright before attempting to scold Anakin between chuckles. He was utterly unrepentant.

Yet despite Anakin's clear cheating, Ahsoka couldn't stop the grin on her face. This type of relaxing, having fun... They didn't have anything like this at the Temple. And she couldn't help but wonder why. This was fun, a very motivating way to get her to learn parts of the Force, and it almost made the light around them shine.

Ahsoka let go of the shell she'd been reaching for, letting Anakin fling it to who-knew-where, and used the Force to match two shells, rather than her hands, before her master intercepted her. She was actually rather proud of the strategy.

_She figured that strategy faster than you my Old Master._

"Only because of whatever Force-be-damned things you have taught her, my cheating old Padawan."

Ahsoka burst out laughing.

In the end, she decided it didn't matter who won or how badly she'd been schooled (Anakin had been matching shells while doing the tug-o-war; no fair!). The whole evening had been one of the most enjoyable experiences she'd ever had.

And with Anakin as her master, she hoped to be allowed to come along again.

* * *

It was after several rounds of the matching shells game that they all sat back and relaxed to more normal chatter. Obi-Wan sipped his tea and let the pure tranquility that surrounded him soak into his weary bones. Catching such snatches of pure light when darkness seemed to pervade everything was such a treat. But then, when Padme had started these dinners, none of them expected what they evolved into.

He doubted Ahsoka realized why it was so relaxing and peaceful. But Padme and Anakin, the hosts, understood. The evening they'd just had was not just friendship but of family. Something Jedi denied. Something that, when Obi-Wan was back at the Temple, would wonder if it was a good idea to be a part off, yet could never stop going to. And Ahsoka had been privy to a far more normal night of fun and relaxing, rather than the more restrained version that would happen if another Jedi decided to visit.

Oddly enough, though Obi-Wan wasn't entirely surprised, any Jedi that partook of Padme's open invitation for a stress-free evening never returned. Because, Obi-Wan was certain, they didn't know what to make of it. Even with constraint and holding back, there was no denying the way the Force would dance around the apartment in ways that a Jedi usually never saw. The Force in the Temple was calming, soothing, and peaceful. When Anakin, Padme and himself went about an evening of relaxing, it danced with mirth, and swirled in joy. Thus the confusion, because there was no denying that any guest Padme and Anakin hosted had a good time. So a Jedi was always left wondering why such strong emotions brought out such joy in the Force instead of turning dark.

Indeed, Obi-Wan wondered the same, after years of learning that peace and serenity was the way of the Jedi. But other Jedi did not have Anakin as a resident in one's mind. It was through Anakin's eyes that Obi-Wan saw what the Force looked like to the Chosen One. For Anakin, the Force wasn't just something that was there for him to work with. It was so integrally a part of him; there was almost no defining the two. The Force could guide Anakin's actions without conscious effort and he wielded it like it was an extension of himself. For Anakin, making the Force dance with love and joy was just a byproduct of expressing his love and appreciation for his wife, his respect and caring to his old master, and his devotion and commitment to his Padawan.

There was just something so inherently... light about what he did with the Force at these times that Obi-Wan was sent back to his Jedi teachings and wondering if something hadn't gotten twisted over the millennium.

But there was no denying that Anakin had dark tendencies. He had, buried deep in his core, a terrifying fear of losing the ones he loved. It was rooted in the lack of permanence he bore during his years as a slave, where his mother or himself could be sold on whatever whim Watto had. So Anakin clung tightly to those he considered his family. (Obi-Wan still wondered from time to time, what he had done to deserve the privilege, but whenever he did, Anakin reached through the bond and swatted him.) Anakin had yet to truly deal with that fear, though he made small attempts to break off tiny pieces of it.

Nights like this, where everyone was happy and together and the Force sang, were countered by Anakin's constant struggle on the battlefield against that fear whenever Obi-Wan or Ahsoka were in danger. Anakin had mostly removed the touches of darkness that had stained him after the Tusken Raiders and encountering Ventress on Yavin IV. Mostly. But the roots to his fear still existed, meaning they could flare up at any time, despite all the time and effort both Obi-Wan and Anakin had spent trying to clean them away.

When Obi-Wan had pushed for Anakin to be knighted, particularly without formal Trials, he had had to explain how, for each Trial, Anakin had already been through and survived. Most, like the Trial of Flesh, were easy to show an example of. But the Trial of Spirit was not one that Obi-Wan could explain quite so simply. For how could he show that Anakin regularly wrestled with his fear to the point of touching the Darkside, yet always walked away still in the Light? Anakin had passed his Trial of Spirit many times and continued to face it regularly. He had more than earned being knighted, even if he hadn't mastered himself yet.

And despite frustrations at still just being a Knight instead of a Master, Anakin understood that it was because he hadn't mastered himself yet. The moment Anakin faced down that debilitating fear and won (because Obi-Wan believed that his old Padawan would win), would be the moment Obi-Wan would start to push for Anakin to be a Master. It didn't stop Anakin's impatience. But at least Anakin knew when it would come. It was just up to him to face down that fear.

Obi-Wan could only hope that Anakin facing down his own Darkness didn't occur when facing a Sith. He knew all too well how difficult it was to face down a Sith while fighting against touching the Darkside. And the fight would be far more pronounced in Anakin. Especially with so much darkness coating the galaxy.

Padme and Ahsoka sat down by a dejarik table, quietly going over rules and strategies as Ahsoka continued to learn the game. Anakin fell beside Obi-Wan, leaning back in a picture of lanky laziness.

"You're worrying again, my old Master. I thought we agreed that Council meetings aren't part of the itinerary on these nights."

Obi-Wan shook his head, sipping his tea again. "It's not the Council; just a lingering worry about all the darkness that's been spreading. I feel we're missing something important and if we don't see it in time, it could mean our disaster. Something is about to happen. And I believe we are ill prepared for it."

Along the bond Anakin reached out, grasped Obi-Wan's worries, and released them to the Force.

"I know, Obi-Wan. But for right now? We live in the moment."

And hearing his old master's words from his own Padawan made Obi-Wan chuckle.

"Very true. Shall I assume you'll want me to take Ahsoka back to the Temple without you?"

Anakin squirmed.

"Um, yeah. Padme's been wanting to tell me something for a while now. I kinda want to know what has her glowing so brightly."

"Among other things, I'm sure," Obi-Wan muttered, hiding a grin behind a hand that brushed at his chin.

"Oh, come now, my old master. We are so rarely together that when we can, we want the chance to actually be _together_."

"I say again. Too much information."

They laughed.

Obi-Wan stood, intending to refresh his tea and continue to enjoy the evening, when his comlink beeped.

"Kenobi, here."

"_Master Kenobi! Chancellor Palpatine's been kidnapped!_"

* * *

**Author's Note**:Okay, for those of you concerned about what happened during Hurricane/Tropical Storm Irene slamming through us last week, we've already ranted and raved a fare bit. Both here:

http :/ mirrorandimage . livejournal . com / 110937 . html

and here:

http :/ mirrorandimage . livejournal . com / 111204 . html

Back to our regularly scheduled author's notes.

Kyaaaaa, that was forever in getting done. This starts the Episode III material and, since we haven't seen Ani or Obi since Ani's knighting, there's a lot of expository what's-been-happening that needed to be stated. And somehow remain interesting. Which we're not sure if it is or not. Bleh.

Yes, we are aware that technically, Obi-Wan and Anakin were nowhere _near_ Coruscant, let alone on it, when Palpatine got fake-kidnapped. It was the kidnapping that finally got them home and for Padme to finally tell Anakin her happy news, etc, etc. Clearly, a lot of our changes are affecting things already. ^_^ This was deliberate. Aside from being a chance to breath before things start to get crazy (so much for drabbles, this is a fully chaptered story at this rate...) and we introduce our more major turns from canon, it was a chance to show what Ahsoka might be like when things start. As of yet, no one knows what her fate is. (We personally think she will die, as another thing to push Anakin to the Darkside.) So if she is alive, we want to play with what her role might be. Rather than sending her away so that Revenge of the Sith can play out, we're going to make sure she's included. She's such a fun character.

Also, if any of you have read _Shadows in Starlight_ by Vathara, you'll recognize the shell game. And if you want a good Obi-Wan-only story that's a crossover, you can go read it.

Next week: Battle of Coruscant. Though a bit different than the movie.


	35. Where Dooku Doesn't Die

**Where Dooku Doesn't Die**

It was a farce; a base comedy for peasants that he was forced to take part in. His theatrical role needed this brief comedic interlude before he could rise to his zenith, a moment for the audience to laugh before the final act could begin, and his true role could shine. And so, Dooku allowed the farce, willingly participating in another duel with Kenobi and Skywalker. As he stood over them, looking at his fellow comedians, he studied them.

Kenobi was the pride of the Jedi, exuding their every principal and moral ethic. Better still, he had _culture_. He had _breeding_ that he carried with an inborn grace that he seemed utterly unaware of. It attracted Dooku's aristocratic sense of esoteric beauty that the Jedi used to hold. It was that very quality that the Jedi had beaten and broken down in their judgmental parochial vision. Code indeed! The Code had become nothing more than rhetoric to justify taking only those that would follow the Council's edicts to the letter without question; mindless beings.

Like clones.

Like droids.

It was utterly intolerable. That Kenobi rose above that made him remarkable. It was a shame that Sidious's interests lay in other people.

Skywalker was the opposite of Kenobi in every way. Passionate to calm. Bold to cautious. Clever to pragmatic. His record on the field was unquestionable. The boy was unorthodox to the extreme; looking at his presence in the Force was like watching a storm. Dooku wondered how the Council ever put up with him. Even now he was a torrent of emotions, roiling in currents and channels around him. The Count almost wondered what the boy was thinking at this moment, what thoughts the child was having staring up to the landing where he looked down on them. The utter lack of self-control was disgusting. Worse than a youngling. Dooku was reminded of the rabble that bickered in the Senate, self-serving and impulsive.

He failed to see what Sidious saw in him.

It added a layer to the farce he was about to take part in.

The two shared a brief exchange, and Dooku noted with a well-hidden chill of surprise that the two were practically sharing one mind. Somehow over the last three years the bond of Master and Padawan had grown exponentially, to a depth he could hardly fathom yet could not deny the sight of.

He glanced to his master, but Sidious was deep in the role of Palpatine and would give nothing away. Dooku considered as he flipped off the landing. A bond this deep would increase their synchronicity manifold, but it would also broadcast the pain of one to the other to the point of distraction. That thought made him sneer at the two. It was still a farce after all.

It was after the duel that he realized the joke was on him.

Disposing of Kenobi had been much more difficult then he'd initially anticipated. Three years constantly on the battlefield, constantly fighting Grievous and acolytes had improved his craft; the tight defense of Soresu was truly impenetrable even with the precise motions of his own Makashi style. This was compounded by the fact that young Skywalker was tenaciously offensive. The boy would press an attack relentlessly until Dooku threw him aside with Djem So's natural weakness to mobility, except then Kenobi would be there blocking for them both. It was uncanny how closely they worked together.

But, then, blade work wasn't everything. Dooku allowed himself to go on the defensive, long enough to concentrate his dark energies and choke Kenobi, lifting the shocked Jedi up into the air. He felt Skywalker's emotions quailing at the very sight, shocked as Dooku casually threw Kenobi aside. The man crashed magnificently and Dooku collapsed the landing on the Jedi, hoping to crush his legs. Perhaps Sidious would let him keep Kenobi as a prize.

The thought disappeared in a single sword stroke as Skywalker advanced. The boy's emotional storm had actually _increased_, he was a towering presence in the Force and he was only getting stronger, drawing on resources unseen. Worse, Sidious was shouting, "Let go Anakin!" Let go of what? The boy was holding on to nothing but his lightsaber as he relentlessly assaulted Dooku.

The farce stopped being funny.

It turned into a tragedy when he lost his hands, sliced off inches above his wrists.

This was not how he was supposed to lose the battle. There was no dignity in this, no honor, no _class_.

"Good, Anakin; very good," Sidious said smiling. That display of teeth was still there when he next said, calmly, deliberately, "Kill him."

Dooku stared at his master. He realized again, or perhaps for the first time, the utter truth:

Treachery was the way of the Sith.

* * *

At last the red mist crystallized and cleared from Anakin's vision. Dooku knelt before him unarmed - literally he realized with black humor - and the red saber was in his hand. Anakin had seen red when Obi-Wan fell and he felt his shocked pain. He realized belatedly that he was breathing hard, and he could hear voices in his head.

There was Palpatine: "Kill him."

Then there was Dooku: "Treachery was the way of the Sith."

Ahsoka, still outside fighting: "You better be all right, Master..."

Padme, miles below on Coruscant: "Please, please let Ani be alright. Bring him home in one piece."

Obi-Wan, unconscious and struggling to wake up: "Must... help..."

It was confusing. He was used to hearing extra voices in his head, it had always been like that; and by now Obi-Wan's voice was as natural as his own, and he was used to catching thoughts from Padme when she was relatively close. Palpatine was a surprise, he didn't remember doing anything to his bond with the grandfatherly old man, but if he had time to think it would be a nice idea to have all his family in his head. The shock was Dooku - why was he hearing the old codger's thoughts? Worse, why were the old man's ruminations filled with shock and a sense of betrayal?

With a start he realized this was Force empathy - the one skill he had no ability in suddenly decided now would be a good time to manifest. He forced himself to turn it off - empathy didn't exist for a monster like Dooku. Listening to his thoughts would be disgusting. It persisted.

"Anakin, what are you waiting for? Kill him!" That was Palpatine again, and Anakin realized that, at least, wasn't Force empathy; that was his mentor shouting over the cacophony going on in his head. He glanced to the elderly man, still bound in the observation chair. He looked tired, stressed, desperate and slightly angry. The war had done this to him. _Dooku_ had done this to such a kind man!

Palpatine's plea finally registered in Anakin's ears, and disgust filled him. The poor man was so strung out that he'd fallen to this. It was Dooku's fault and the prostrate man under his blades suddenly filled Anakin's head with anger again. He pressed the blades closer to the Sith's throat.

"Look," he hissed. "Look at what you've done to him! Palpatine's a good, kind man of principal and look at what your stupid war has done to him! Look at what your war has done to Obi-Wan! To me! You created all of this!" He deserved to die! Dooku's death would end everything: no more death! No more loss! Anakin would never have to suffer another death, never have to lose someone he held close, no longer have to lose his mother! He could rip him down just like he did with the filth of the Tuskens!

The Tuskens...

The _Tuskens_...

His head overflowed with images: the deaths in the desert, Padme telling him he was not all powerful, Obi-Wan's face when he found out about the massacre, the meditations he did over and over and over - sometimes with Obi-Wan and less often alone - to release the darkness that had flooded him during those moments. He saw Ventress, Obi-Wan's beaten and emaciated form after his torture, the fight in that temple on the moon of Yavin, the flashbacks. He remembered how he felt when he thought he'd killed Ventress in anger again, the gut-wrenching feeling that he was a failure as a Jedi, that he _still_ was a failure as a Jedi.

_"I cannot help you with this." I cannot face this for you._

_ "So I did what I always do when I got angry. I channeled it... If you channel it to something constructive, anger loses its hold on you."_

Anakin looked at Dooku again: his amputated arms, his old, withered, face. The Force empathy that still hadn't shut up tingled in his mind. Dooku's numb shock and sense of betrayal was starting to fade, his mind was starting to work again. The Sith was angry; angry and hurt that he had been passed over by a whelp. He was... pitiful.

"Kill him!"

He deactivated his lightsabers. "No, sir," he said slowly, his tenor voice soft. He turned to his troubled mentor. "I won't lower myself to his level; and you shouldn't either." He reached into his belt to pull out binders.

"This is a Republic order, Anakin," Palpatine pleaded, his face distraught, afraid. "Think of all the lives he's killed. He almost killed _me_!"

Swinging Dooku's abbreviated arms behind his cloaked back, Anakin fastened the binders at the elbows before turning again to the Chancellor. "Sir," he said gently, holding the older man in nothing but the highest regard and respect. "It is _because_ of those lives he's taken that I won't demean them by slaughtering him. I can't... I _won't_ turn into him."

Never again. He would make mistakes. He would backslide. He would likely struggle for the rest of his life. But he would never, _never_, let himself feel that sick over his actions again.

Obi-Wan's conscious stirred in his mind, struggling to wake up, before falling under again. Dooku's thoughts slowly faded away.

Anakin stood again, hoisting Dooku up before spinning him around. "Do you concede your defeat?" he asked. It was moot, he couldn't trust Dooku's word, but Anakin had to admit he would take a certain black pleasure in seeing the man admit it to him.

Surprisingly, Dooku acquiesced without missing a beat. "I admit a thorough defeat, Skywalker. I have much to say, but not here." He glanced at the Chancellor. "First I would like to see if your victory was a fluke or a result of actual skill. Let us see if you can't escape my ship." The old codger didn't _quite_ sneer, but Anakin openly sneered back, thrilling at the idea of the challenge.

"Well, then, this will be over with really quick. Let's start with you staying right here while I 'free up' some allies."

With a flourish, Anakin ignited his lightsaber and freed Palpatine before boldly turning his back on Dooku to see to his former master. Casually, he tossed him over his shoulder, "Try not to hurt him too bad, Chancellor; that's what the public trial is for."

* * *

When Obi-Wan finally managed to pull himself back to consciousness, he found himself staring at a butt. He stared at it at first; trying to gather his wits about him, before realizing that in all likelihood he was staring at Anakin's behind. He hardly had any familiarity with his partner's gluteus maximus, but Force knew only _Anakin_ would somehow orchestrate circumstances to precipitate such an embarrassment.

Then he realized his hand were hanging limply _over his head_, and when he looked up he saw the elevator shaft going down, down, down...

He quickly grabbed for purchase on Anakin and glowered at him. "Have I missed anything?"

"Oh, nothing much," Anakin replied, charming grin shining at full blast.

"Perhaps now that you have less dead weight we may consider moving faster."

Obi-Wan spun his head around to see Dooku on the other side of Anakin; his feet braced against a knot of cabling. His hands were bound behind him. Meanwhile Palpatine was also clutching Anakin, his arms wrapped around the young man's waist. He turned a full force Glare of the Exasperated to Anakin.

"You call this 'nothing'?"

If anything, Anakin's grin only brightened. "It won't be 'something' until we get Grievous."

"You can't seriously think-"

"I'm sure he'll be more than a little put out-"

"-that we can manage to get him-"

"-when he sees Dooku over here-"

"-and not put the Chancellor-"

"-_unarmed_ and at our mercy-"

"-in further danger-"

"-and simply give up on sight."

"-when _you_ decide to pull another stunt like this!"

The two were openly staring at each other, one put out and the other blithe, when Dooku's voice interrupted the beautiful argument they were having. "It is seeing such an excuse of repartee that I now begin to wonder how it was that you both became as successful as you have."

"You stay out of this!" they both said.

It may have proceeded further, but the gravitational fluxes that the ship had been suffering since the beginning of the assault suddenly jerked everyone in a different direction. There was a foreboding _thunk_ from above and the two Jedi looked up in dread to realize that the elevator was now hurtling down toward them.

"Gentlemen," Dooku said with the air of an elite addressing a populace. "I shall bid you a temporary ado." For a moment his gaze lingered at Anakin, or perhaps a little lower, Obi-Wan couldn't be sure, before he added. "We will meet again."

Then his feet loosed themselves of there footings and he hurtled down the shaft.

"That poodoo-eating bantha piece of-"

"Anakin! Down!" Obi-Wan shouted, all too aware of their imminent doom if they stayed in one place. The pair jumped to the opposite end of the shaft, bracing their legs, and then launching forward through an open set of doors - just moments before the elevator plummeted past them.

Palpatine, still clutching Anakin in a death grip, his face pale and drawn, looked at the Jedi. "Is it always like this?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Obi-Wan and Anakin looked at each other, mirth flickering back and forth along the bond.

"Yes," they said in unison.

During the dash through the halls, Anakin quickly updated Obi-Wan on what had happened through the bond, showing pictures of the duel and channeling some of his emotion. Obi-Wan was shocked at the turn of events; he had felt confident that they could take on Dooku together, but Anakin, alone, not only defeated the Sith but also - however temporarily - conquered his own anger. His friend was seething anew now with Dooku's escape, however, and was more than ready to crush some droids.

_I should have killed him when I had the chance!_

Obi-Wan immediately countered that thought - reshuffling Anakin's own memories of Dooku and the ultimate decision that he would never reduce himself to slaughter again and channeled them back to Anakin.

"You were right to let him live and control your anger, Anakin," he said quickly, eyes scanning for the conspicuously absent presence of droids. "Clearly the Force has something in mind with him."

"That's hardly consolation when I _had_ him dead to rights and then he _got away_."

"'Got away' with severe injuries not only to his body but also to his ego. Let us see if he passes this Trial of Flesh. It may even turn into a Trial of Spirit."

"You act like the old sleamo is a Padawan."

Obi-Wan arced an eyebrow.

"... Right." Sufficiently distracted, Anakin's anger dissipated.

That was when the ray shield caught them. The three men looked at the barrier with incredulous disbelief.

"How did this happen? We're too smart for this!" Obi-Wan asked.

"More feelings, master?" Anakin asked. His tone was wry, but as Obi-Wan cast his feelings out, he could only see muddled clouds, dark and foreboding. Though Anakin was not as sensitive in the Unifying Force as he, he felt Obi-Wan's concern vicariously through the bond, making him frown. "Seriously?" he asked.

Obi-Wan's mind was hard at work, trying to piece together answers he felt were right in front of him but slipping through his grasp. "Look at what's been happening," he said, rubbing his beard. "The gravity shifts, having Dooku and then losing him, the battle outside; even that the Separatists were able to get the Chancellor in the first place. There's a larger game being played here: elusive, dark. I can't seem to put my finger on it..."

"Then, perhaps," Palpatine said with a deceptively light tone, "you could instead put a finger on how to get out of here?"

The two Jedi looked at each other. "I say patience," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan nearly fell over on principal. "You? Patience?"

"I can be patient!" he said defensively. "Artoo will come and get us."

And, as if on cue, R2-D2 came barreling around a corner with so much momentum he banged into a wall and fell to his side. Obi-Wan saw the confidently bright grin again, smug over his prediction coming true.

Then the droidekas rolled up after the little astromech droid, and Obi-Wan felt more than a little justified in saying, "I told you so."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Good grief we're actually going to be bold enough to rewrite the movie. (Bangs head on keyboard) What have we gotten ourselves into?

Hopefully as the third book starts to turn further and further away from itself it all makes sense and you're nice and emotionally vested in what happens next. Here in the beginning we're going to keep elements of the third book - partly because they're great ideas but more so that you get another layer of how much these small changes are starting to build.

At least, that's the idea. As such, nothing really new here, it follows book and movie quite closely.

...Aside from the fact that Dooku still lives, that is. ^_^

Next week: The aftermath of the battle.


	36. Where Things Change

**Where "Things Change"**

"Master!"

Obi-Wan watched as a certain young Togrutan Padawan, her skin a bright orange in the noon sun, come running off the approaching shuttle and up to the three men who had just escaped disaster intact. Her concern quickly turned to relief and then she put on a much more brash face; like her master was wont to do.

"Master!" Ahsoka said, this time in more trite tones, "Why is it whenever you go flying you end up crashing?"

Anakin took the time to look affronted. "How can you say that, Snips?" he demanded, huffing in indignation. "This," he added, jerking a thumb to the smoking heap of slag that was once the _Invisible Hand_, "This is a masterpiece! They'll have to rewrite textbooks for this! Name me one other person who could land a Separatist star destroyer - _half_ a Separatist star destroyer, through a war zone and come out with not only minimal property damage but also with all passengers intact?"

"Master Obi-Wan," Ahsoka said without missing a beat. "And Master Plo."

Anakin openly grinned. "Then you still have much to learn my very young Padawan."

Obi-Wan shrugged slightly, enjoying watching Master-Padawan banter and unwilling to interrupt it. Instead he turned his gaze over to Mace Windu as he approached - the Council member having the patience to wait until the shuttle landed and come to a stop before striding up to assess the three. The bald Jedi said, "I can safely assume then that the mission was a success?" looking at Palpatine with a narrow gaze. His delivery was so deadpan others might not have seen the dry wit, but Obi-Wan was his own master in being dry, and he smiled slightly.

"Oh, yes," he replied, "As successful as anything can be expected when Anakin is on a mission."

Mace did not reply immediately, staring at the three of them: Anakin, verbally sparing with Ahsoka; Obi-Wan, calmly waiting; and Palpatine, who came up and shook Mace's hand vigorously, already offering political platitudes.

"I cannot thank you Jedi enough," he said. "Young Anakin saved my life! The level of heroism I've witnessed will not go unrewarded; let me assure you. After this Dooku will think twice before going on the offensive like this - I can't wait to tell the Senate about what happened to him!" Mace ripped his gaze away from the Chancellor quickly enough to send a piercing gaze to Obi-Wan, and he nodded, understanding the he needed a report immediately. The ginger haired Jedi started to step forward, Anakin and Ahsoka following and they all boarded the transport.

Anakin, given that he was _conscious_ through some of the important parts, gave the majority of the report. Obi-Wan sent a quick thought through the bond to keep quiet about the Force Empathy he had with Dooku until after Palpatine had been taken care of. That little tidbit was revealing, but of what neither were completely sure. Obi-Wan took over - or tried to - when they confronted Grievous, but Palpatine kept interrupting, inserting some particular act that Anakin did that the Supreme Chancellor somehow found heroic or worthy of note. All the Jedi on the transport, even inexperienced Ahsoka, were annoyed at the constant interruptions from someone without enough combat knowledge to understand what was essential and what was not, but none of them showed it. Anakin gave more than a few reassurances throughout the bond, saying Palpatine was stressed out and unaware of what he was doing - even if, he added smugly, the old man was perfectly correct.

Both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka rolled their eyes.

When the shuttle landed on one of the pads at the Senate building, Palpatine was more than happy to step off the transport and address the senate - a speech already formulating in his mutterings. He paused after taking several steps, however, and turned around.

"Anakin, do come along," he said, "The Republic needs to see the hero of the hour." He gestured to the swell of Senators and delegates who'd come to greet them.

And the press.

Anakin visibly squirmed.

Oh, he loved the attention, he loved the adoration of people seeing him as a great man and hero, complimenting him and, on a deeper level that precious few people knew about, reaffirming to himself that Anakin Skywalker was no longer a worthless slave to be ignored and spat upon. What he didn't like, what he _never_ liked, were the random and often irrelevant questions about his personal life or his likes in entertainment or decoration. There was a falseness in their adoration of him that he could never quite bring himself to like, but also never quite bother him enough to ignore.

The hero of the hour turned pleadingly to his former master.

"Oh, no," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head and holding up a hand to forestall the question. "Enjoy your public, Mr. Hero with No Fear."

He actually winced, and it was worth using the dreaded nickname. "But it was _your_ plan, Obi-Wan," he said, slightly desperate. "You came up with the idea, you carried it out, you should get at least as much attention as me."

"Oh, certainly," Obi-Wan said in glib tones - more than enjoying seeing Anakin's own irritation at seeing his blithe attitude thrown back at him. "The public wants to know all about the man who was knocked aside like a sack of meat and being carried around by the hero for half the assault."

Anakin frowned, and through the bond Obi-Wan felt the other man's emotions. "You shouldn't think so little of yourself, Master," he said.

"And you shouldn't think so highly of yourself," he countered easily. He sent warm reassurance through the bond, acknowledging how he must have sounded to Anakin and letting him know that it was all meant in jest. "Go enjoy your public. I know how you love," he put on a delicate cough, "_politicians_."

Ahsoka, little imp that she was, added her own thoughts on the matter. "Do you want me to keep them at bay from you, Master?" she asked in her own sardonic voice.

Anakin started to pout righteously, but Palpatine was upon them again, grabbing the Knight's elbow and tugging him along. The press and other delegates soon swallowed them up. The Padawan moved to join them, but Obi-Wan quickly held her back; she still had a report to give on her part of the battle out in the atmosphere, and the Jedi Master felt the swell of excitement through the bond as Anakin discovered that Padme was there.

Understanding at least the part about giving the report, Ahsoka opened her mouth to start for Mace but he silenced her with a stern look, his eyes quickly locking on to Obi-Wan. Dread immediately filled the Jedi. "What is it?" he asked in a tense voice. Ahsoka leaned forward. Mace gave her a pointed look but returned his focus to his fellow Council member.

"You have been gone for five months, Obi-Wan," Mace said in dark tones. "A lot has changed here on Coruscant."

Obi-Wan nodded, remembering all too well the Council meeting they were having before Anakin had kidnapped him for dinner at Padme's, before they learned of Palpatine's kidnapping.

Nothing more was said, however, as Mace glared at Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan was left with the dreadful sensation that the need to speak was dire. He remembered all too well the glances and Yoda and Mace shared when they were holding council, briefing Obi-Wan on what had been happening in the core.

Anakin had of course heard Obi-Wan's disquiet and was poking at the bond. Obi-Wan didn't want to split his attention, and so he mentally turned off the filters that he and Anakin had developed for their unnaturally deep bond. Anything he heard or thought would go directly to Anakin. Almost as soon as he did he felt an overwhelming sense of _CHILD_ followed immediately by _SHOCK_ and _EXCITEMENT_. The Jedi Master quickly covered his face with his hand, feigning rubbing it to forestall a headache. Did those two have _any_ sense of timing? First the marriage and now _this_...

_I heard that, Master! Can't you be happy for me?_

_ I will as soon as the shock and overwhelming concern for the both of you fade to obscurity._

Then he felt something that suspiciously might have been a sardonic grin. _We're married, Master, it was bound to happen eventually._

"Not now, Anakin," Obi-Wan murmured.

"Do you have something to say, Master Kenboi?" Mace asked, a dark brow rising.

"No, Master Windu," Obi-Wan said quickly. Looking up, he saw the measuring gaze of the Korun Jedi and little Ahsoka pouting with teenage jealousy of something-cool-is-happening-that-I'm-not-privy-to. He quickly added, "Anakin was trying to share some trivial information."

_It's NOT trivial!_

Obi-Wan allowed himself the time necessary to be rude and sent back, _SHUT UP, Anakin, so I can find out what has Mace Windu so concerned he wants to talk to me in private without Ahsoka._

He felt the trite discontent but heard no response, and focused his attention again on Mace. "I've raised my shields," he said smoothly, "he won't bother us again. Unless, of course, you want him privy to this?"

The very emphatic "No" that was his response made even Anakin, miles away with his wife, startle in surprise. Obi-Wan said nothing else; the rest of the ride to the Temple was tensely silent. Ahsoka knew she was out of her depth but wanted very badly to be a part; her pout almost rivaled that of her master, as she knew she would be left out. Her teenage feelings were not Obi-Wan's concern, however, it was Mace's admission that Anakin was not to know of this conversation.

Even after landing, after Ahsoka left to catch up with her teachers, they did not speak. Not until they came to a private mediation room - _not_ the Council room, Obi-Wan noted - did Mace at last speak. "I do not like Skywalker's connection to Palpatine."

His bond filters still lowered, Obi-Wan watched Mace very carefully. "We've had this discussion before." He and the entire Council had had this discussion. None of them liked a man of such political clout having a Jedi's attention. A Jedi's service needed to be for the greater good, not for political gain, and having someone as powerful as Anakin so closely related to the head of the Republic made the Council nervous.

"This is not that," Mace said in his deep tones. "Something has changed, and it's eating at their connection. Powerful. Dangerous."

Obi-Wan shook his head, unsure of where Mace was leading this to and wanting to somehow reassure his fellow Councilor. "I trust Anakin with my life," he said.

"I know you do. I only wish we could trust the Chancellor with Anakin's."

A frown pressed against Obi-Wan's beard, and he could feel Anakin feeling the same miles away. "Palpatine dotes on Anakin like an uncle or a grandfather; he holds him in nothing but the highest regard, regardless of his... policies..." It was the best word he could think of, because when push came to shove, Obi-Wan did not like some of the decisions that Palpatine made even if Anakin found ways to defend it.

Mace shook his head, looking out over the city and its fires and trails of smoke from the recent battle. "If he holds affection for anything other than power, I have not seen it," he said in bleak tones.

Of course he wouldn't, only Anakin - and vicariously Obi-Wan because of their bond - were privy to those private meetings. Still frowning, the Jedi Master tried again. "I thought you were a strong supporter of Palpatine?" he ventured carefully. He could sense Anakin listening intently.

"Things... _change_."

And something in the way he said that had Obi-Wan standing a little straighter.

Mace continued: "We have circumstantial evidence that Sidious is in Palpatine's inner circle."

_That_ he did _not_ expect, and his entire face slacked in shock. The sensation was doubled as he felt Anakin's own reaction - the sensation of the world tilting, of nothing being the way it was supposed to... Obi-Wan shook it off, trying to ignore Anakin's feelings. "... Are you certain?"

"Nothing is certain," Mace replied, looking out the vista. "But today's raid is very damning. It _had_ to have been an inside job, there is no other way the Chancellor could have been spirited away. Similarly, _while_ that attack was happening, we were tracking the information you and Skywalker discovered. It traced to a factory, and then through the tunnels, and then to Five Hundred Republica."

The epicenter of the most wealthy and powerful of Coruscant, home even of Chancellor Palpatine. Anakin's reaction was threatening to overwhelm him, but he dared not filter the bond; this had as much to do with Anakin as the Sith, he _needed_ to know this.

Mace continued. "We are forced to face the possibility - the _probability_ - that what Dooku told you on Geonosis was true, and that a Sith Lord is in charge of the Republic. It has been for _years_." He let out a deep sigh. "There are too many suspects to even list, too many people who stand to gain from all of this. It could even be the Red Guards; nothing can be discounted. Worse, though he has not said it, Palpatine will not let us question anyone. I fear he doubts the Sith even exist. On record, all we have is the word of Count Dooku, who is still at large and cannot be questioned - and his word is dubious at best; even the Sith on Naboo was destroyed - as you well know," he added not unkindly as Obi-Wan flinched at the memory of the reactor core, the red blockades, the red lightsaber, the red tattoos, the red blood, already cauterized. Anakin sent reassurance through the bond.

"Relations with the Chancellor have been... difficult," Mace added, "I feel that he has lost trust in the Jedi." He turned at last to face Obi-Wan. "I at least have lost my trust in him."

Anakin was making strangling sounds in his mind, unable to fully process what he was hearing, and Obi-Wan too was filled with disbelief. "Surely..." he started, "It's a Jedi investigation... he can't have the authority to stop-"

But the bald Jedi's face hardened and he interrupted, "These days it is very hard indeed to see what he _doesn't_ have power over." He took a deep breath. "The only reason he is above suspicion is simply because he is _already_ in charge of the galaxy."

Obi-Wan was still struggling to find a way past the surrealism of the moment. "Isn't... Isn't it a good thing, then, that Anakin is so close to the Chancellor? He has access to him that other Jedi do not, surely his friendship will be an asset?"

"Skywalker cannot know of this."

_WHAT?_

Obi-Wan agreed: "What?" he asked; horrified at the thought. "We don't keep secrets from each other!"

"You must for this," Mace said in hard, calculated tones. "Skywalker is arguably the most powerful Jedi in the Order and is still growing. But he is not _stable_; he has no mastery over himself. You yourself have said over and over that he is loyal to a fault. Now imagine him learning that the Chancellor is in danger, that a _Sith Lord_ is among his advisers. The less he has to do with Palpatine the better."

Obi-Wan knew all too well what Mace was saying, had experienced Anakin disobeying orders over and over to rescue someone - rescue _him_ - and he could feel the roiling swell of emotions across that bond as Anakin was struggling to process what he was discovering. Anakin could do many things; often he redefined impossible as a matter of course, but one thing he could not do was keep a secret. Not about something like this. Even Anakin, in the corner of Obi-Wan's mind, knew it and struggled even with _that_. The Jedi Master thought he was going to overload.

But Mace had still more to say. "Given this knowledge; if Sidious is in the Chancellors inner circle, then there may come a time when we will be forced to move _against_ Palpatine."

Obi-Wan couldn't even think of a response; he could only stare. He was numb, half convinced that this wasn't actually happening, that two Jedi Masters and Councilors would actually _be having this conversation_...

Mace saw his disbelief. "Obi-Wan, you haven't _been_ here," he said. "Which is better? Freedom or security? We had freedom before this war started, but progress was slow and laborious: the price of civilization is complexity. For the sake of this war we have sacrificed right after right after right for the platitudes of security. You of all people, Obi-Wan, should be able to answer this: are we really all that _secure_?"

It made sense. It made so much sense it was scary, because they _weren't_ secure. The Separatists were still out there battling viciously for Outer Rim planets, news of losses and death tolls permeated the HoloNet, fear was pervasive - even here in the core, here on _Coruscant_. The darkness, it was clouding everything. He felt like he did on the _Invisible Hand_, caught in a ray shield and seeing dark undercurrents everywhere and knowing, _knowing_, that it all connected somehow and that he just couldn't _see_ it.

That was when they felt it.

Their eyes snapped back to the window, down the slope of the ziggurat to the Promenade, to the figure that was walking up it.

To Count Dooku, walking into the Jedi Temple.

* * *

One always must present a proper picture. Looking the part was always very important to Dooku, and so after securing an escape pod and landing on Coruscant, the first thing he'd done - after watching Skywalker do the impossible and land a bifurcated ship successfully without injury to anyone - was to see a tailor and take his very best clothes. Changing into them had been a challenge, even cauterized from the lightsaber, his amputated hands hurt unbelievably and forcing them into sleeves had been unconscionable. He took out his aggravation by using the Force to strangle the tailor, the whimpering simpleton was looking for an excuse to call Security, and Dooku would have none of _that_, so the Rhodian simply had to go.

He rolled up the sleeves with the Force, eying his new stumps, glaring at them really.

"_Kill him._"

The memory flooded him with anger. Treachery was the way of the Sith; he knew that, but for some reason he had never expected _this_. Dooku betraying and killing Palpatine was one thing, the apprentice was supposed to overthrow the master; but the very idea of the apprentice being... _replaced_... was abhorrent and downright _uncivilized_.

Worse, to be replaced with _Skywalker_. It goaded him to no end.

And so, he would follow the creed of the Sith: treachery. Only, he would do so in a way that Palpatine could never have guessed.

This thought filled him with mirth, and so he finished changing and made his way to the Temple. They weren't expecting him, but he had no doubt that there would be a welcome. By the time he finished strolling down the Processional Way, at the foot of the stairs stood his former master, Yoda, Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and possibly every Jedi in the Temple to bear witness to his arrival. The silence was ominous, but what Dooku found particularly impressive was the sense of anticipation, bordering right on the wire-fine edge of fear. The Jedi had fallen very far indeed if darkness pervaded this much, even at the Temple.

Yoda limped forward, leaning heavily on his gimmer stick as he always did.

"Master Yoda," he said in greeting.

"Count Dooku," Yoda replied, tapping his stick. "Hm. A surprise this is."

"I can certainly imagine," Dooku said, allowing himself to smile. "It is not every day that the political head of one of the Order's long list of enemies surrenders himself to them; and at their front door, no less." He felt the ripple through the crowd, and his smile only widened. "I assume the detention levels are still in working order - unless they are overflowing, of course, with the Jedi's many enemies?"

Mace Windu stepped forward. "If you are trying to inspire fear, it is not working."

Dooku shrugged, genially. "Perhaps not for you. Tell me, Mace, have you and the other Councilors fallen so far that you can't see the darkness in your own walls? It is a good thing I came, then; perhaps I can enlighten you."

Kenobi stepped forward next, his face thoughtful, his presence calm. "Have you passed your Trial of Flesh?" he asked slowly.

Dooku deliberately ignored him and looked to Yoda. "Are we to have this conversation here?"

Yoda's gaze was still measuring. They stared at each other for a very, very long time, until at last the pregnant pause ended. "Changed you have," the old master said, "In some ways. In others, hm, you have not changed."

A moment of self-reflection brought that to be true. He was not a Jedi - he hadn't been for years and by now did not even consider returning. But, if he looked deep down enough, he was not a Sith either. Betrayal did not sit well with one of his breeding; loyalty was a matter of course with one's compatriots. If betrayal did occur, the guilty party was no longer a compatriot, easily killed and the pain disposed of. With Sidious, however, this could not be done. His disguise of Palpatine was too instrumental to openly gut him without disastrous consequence to himself. The dreams of killing him at a meeting, the old fool's expression pole axed and gaping, was now impossible. And so, he would show Sidious treachery in a way no one would ever expect:

He would be loyal.

He would continue the role he started in this farce, quietly pondering his status in prison until the end of the war; whereupon now, instead of "miraculously converting," he would drop a hint or two here and there and test the Jedi, see if there was enough light left in them to discern what he would not, even obliquely, tell them. If it worked, Sidious would be dead and he could move on to other things. If it didn't work, well, there were many ways to occupy one's time in detention.

The key to being the Sith was to do what was unexpected; that had served Dooku well, but there were some things that one just did not do if one were a man of breeding and class. What Dooku found most delicious was that, in doing the honorable thing, he was doing the _unexpected_ thing, and now Sidious would be dancing and gnashing his teeth wanting to learn what he was up to at the Temple - assuming the old man even knew he was here. Dooku suspected he did.

Treachery through loyalty.

How Sith.

How... Jedi.

He nodded to his old master. "Betrayal is a deep cut, and it changes everyone," he said.

It was the last words he uttered until he was in the detention center.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And the sharp right turn continues: Ani actually knows about Mace and Yoda's suspicions (not that _they_ know that he knows), relieving Obi-Wan of trying to keep that particular secret, and Dooku decides to spin off and do his own plans. He does like to create a stir, doesn't he?

We hope the idea of treachery through loyalty reads well, that people understand what we're trying to do so that Dooku's destiny is... well it's not easy but it's a little softer. He's being noble, in a way that he hasn't been since joining the Sith.

Hope you like!

Next week: Anakin gets appointed to the High Council. Damn Palpatine keeps trying to get his hooks in poor little Ani.


	37. Where Loyalties Split

**Where Loyalties Split**

"You're late."

"Sorry, Obi-Wan."

"Trouble pulling away from a certain Senator?"

Anakin replied with a cheeky grin, utterly unrepentant.

Obi-Wan put on a disproving frown, but Anakin dutifully ignored it. Instead he asked, "What did I miss?"

"Only the entire briefing of the Outer Rim sieges," Obi-Wan answered. Anakin could feel the irritation along the bond, but he knew it was superficial. He next felt caution, and that made the young Jedi frown. "You also missed a call. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine wants to have a meeting with you. He called your quarters. Ahsoka let me know."

"Wait, you mean he didn't go through the Council?" Anakin asked. "Do they even know about it?"

"When I told them they were quite concerned," Obi-Wan replied. The two started walking the halls. "They don't know what this is about. _I_ don't know what this is about. Do you?"

Anakin blinked. "No, how could I?" he demanded, irritated that his old teacher even needed to _ask_.

"For the record," Obi-Wan said, offering placating tones through the bond. "At least this way I can tell the Council I asked; they always seem a little edgy whenever we do something across the bond."

Anakin sighed through his nose and nodded. "I understand. Sorry, Obi-Wan. I'll grab Ahsoka and head over to the Senate building now."

"He wanted to see you personally, I rather got the impression he didn't want any _other_ guests for this meeting."

Anakin frowned at that. His visits with Palpatine as a child had always been private, that was true, but he'd had more than a few meetings with the Chancellor that had others present. The private audiences were always at Anakin's behest, however, not Palpatine's. What could he want that others needn't be there? Or was it just a visit for the sake of a visit? Then why not go through the Council? Was there protocol for this kind of thing? He'd have to ask Padme...

"Focus on the now, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, responding to Anakin's confusion. "Go to the meeting and see what he has to say."

* * *

"Ah, Anakin! So good to see you," Palpatine said, rising from his desk.

The Jedi bowed slightly, following decorum, before getting right to the point. "You sent for me, Chancellor," he said, phrasing the question in his tone.

Palpatine caught on quickly. "Ah, yes. I regret calling you at your personal apartments. Padawan Tano was quite confused at the call."

"Yes," Anakin replied, already feeling at ease. Palpatine would be able to explain this.

The Chancellor's entire demeanor changed, his warm smile fading slightly, almost breaking. His shoulders dropped and his posture shifted. It looked as though the weight of the galaxy were on his shoulders. Anakin felt he impulse to do something.

"I need our help, son."

His heart clenched. "What is it?" he asked.

Palpatine put a hand to his forehead, rubbing it as he sat back heavily in his chair. Anakin quickly grabbed a chair of his own and pulled it behind the Chancellor's desk. "Oh, Anakin," Palpatine moaned, "I don't want to burden you, but when it comes down to it _you_ are the only Jedi I truly trust. Not only for what you did on Naboo but more recently when you risked _everything_ just to save me."

Anakin flushed at the praise; Palpatine gave it out so freely - and yet these high words of esteem were only ever directed at _him_. Palpatine would never - had never - complimented other politicians so highly, nor did he give anything but the most reserved and polite words to other Jedi. He held Anakin at a level of adoration that no one else did; and it always, _always_, felt good to hear it.

Palpatine continued. "This war is horrible, it's corrupting everything. The Senate is a shell of what it once was, filled with profit-mongering special interests who bought their seats; everything is mired in self-serving lip service. They make themselves look good to the public while they muster everything they can to rebuke any real effort to end the war. And the Jedi!" Palpatine threw his hands up, despair and frustration paling his face. "Anakin, you know how I've supported the Jedi, surely you've seen the steps I've taken, but everything I've seen points to them-" he cut himself off, the hand rubbing his face again. Palpatine sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Anakin leaned forward, putting his organic hand on the Chancellor's shoulder to try and assuage the man. He wished his bond with Palpatine was stronger, he simply never had the time he did with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and even Padme. It left him feeling inadequate as he funneled reassurance through his mind and project it at the Chancellor. "What are you saying, Chancellor?" he asked softly.

"Anakin, when all is said and done, when the war is over, I fear the Jedi will take their clone army and take over."

The world tilted.

Obi-Wan, back at the Temple, gave a startled _WHAT?_

Anakin stared at Palpatine openly. His expression a mixture of all the emotions he was feeling, he gawked as his brain tried to accept what it had just heard. At length, he finally managed a forced chuckle and said, "Chancellor, that isn't funny."

"No," Palpatine said in utter gravity. "It is not."

He... was serious.

He really felt that way. Anakin's brain overloaded with the absurdity of the claim, in conflict with the tiny whisper that anything was possible in this war, remembering the disturbing conversation Obi-Wan had had with Mace Windu, unable to process a sentence that shook him to his very foundations. His brain was struggling not to turn off, really, but Palpatine still kept talking.

"Anakin, I'm sorry. Truly I didn't want to share these suspicions with you, but I need a man I can trust to help me. You aren't part of the plot; your reaction just now is proof of that. I need someone to see if my reasoning is valid or not; a man inside if you will. Anakin, you have to help me. Prove me wrong - please, I _want_ to be wrong but I fear I'm not."

"But..." Anakin started, but his brain still wasn't working. Struggling, he tried again. "How could I..." He still couldn't finish a sentence.

"Anakin," Palpatine said, a shadow of his old smile on his face. "I am electing you as my personal representative on the Jedi Council."

The world tilted even more, and Anakin's brain at last shut down.

* * *

Obi-Wan had been sitting in meditation with Yoda, Mace, Shaak Ti and Kit Fisto when Anakin's filters dropped without warning and he was assaulted with a turbulent roil of emotions and the voice of Chancellor Palpatine accusing the Jedi of plotting to _take over the Republic_. He couldn't quiet stop the startled squawk that bubbled into this throat, but he put his indignity aside and pulled off his own filters. What on _earth_ was going on over there? Anakin's emotions were overpowering, the confusion and the absurdity and uncertainty and the tiny sound that _it might be true_ stuffing and clogging his mind. He was not thinking clearly. Obi-Wan would have to help, he pushed through the emotions, fighting them off to listen to Palpatine explain Anakin's _nomination to the Council_.

His eyes snapped open. He briefly registered that the four Masters were staring at him, but his gaze focused immediately on Mace and Yoda.

"Did you know of this?" he asked.

"Know of what? What did you see, Obi-Wan?" Mace asked.

"Anakin has just informed me that _Palpatine_ is going to place him on the _Jedi Council_. Did you know this was going to happen?"

Silence.

Then, finally, Mace: "Then the bill was passed." The Korun Jedi leaned back, his face tight and drawn.

"Feared this we did," Yoda said, a tiny hand reaching up to rub his thin white hair.

"What bill? What are you saying?" Obi-Wan asked. Had he really been on the front lines so long that he hadn't seen this? He looked to the other two Councilors. Shaak Ti, often busy with the clone facilities on Kamino, held a neutral face except for the concern in her eyes. Kit, often in the front like himself, looked as confused as he did.

"I said before that there is little that the Chancellor is _not_ in control of. There was a bill on the docket that would vote even more executive powers over to him, enough that he could, in theory, do something like this. We had hoped that he would not."

"He wants Anakin to spy on the Council!" Obi-Wan said, shocked at the news. "He thinks the Jedi are going to take over the Republic!"

All four Masters eyes widened.

Mace leaned forward. "When did you learn of this?" he demanded.

"Right now, it's happening right now," Obi-Wan said. Oh, Force, _Anakin_! He shouldn't be in this position; his loyalties shouldn't be made to split like this...

_Master..._ his partner's voice said quietly in the corner of his mind. He sounded small, confused, lost. _What if it's true...?_

"Of course it's not true, Anakin," Obi-Wan hissed, closing his eyes and sending all of his own feelings through the bond. _We have the Code for a reason, don't let Palpatine's misgivings hurt you like this. You KNOW the Jedi; Mace and Yoda would be disgusted if anyone even SUGGESTED such a travesty._

He could feel Anakin take heart, his footing take firmer ground. He saw the picture of Yoda and Mace politely telling a faceless voice offering them the Senate that they were idiots, the comical picture solidifying and giving Anakin strength. There was gratitude, and a slow release of pressure. Obi-Wan allowed himself a deep breath, content that Anakin had managed to work his way through enough of the maelstrom of his emotions to think under his own power. He opened his eyes and faced the Council again. "Something is seriously wrong if the Chancellor actually thinks that we're going to take over the Senate, believes it enough to put Anakin in this position. I can only assume that the Sith are behind this. What do we do?"

"Should we address the Senate?" Kit Fisto supposed. "Reassure them that we have no interest in positions of authority?"

"And yet what do we have but positions of authority?" Shaak Ti said softly, deep in thought. "We are the leaders of a clone army, in a strong military position; would it not be natural for people who are fearful to make such an assumption? We must meditate on this..."

"One thing we must not do," Mace interceded, "Is alert the Sith that we know anything about this. We will not address the Senate, that will tip him off."

"An opportunity, this is," Yoda said slowly; his eyes closed in meditation.

Obi-Wan frowned. What possible opportunity could there be in this disaster?

"I agree," Mace said. "With Skywalker on the Council and reporting to Palpatine, we can feed the Sith false information. This may be advantageous to us."

Wait... what?

Mace leaned forward again, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together, thumbs supporting his chin. "We could leak information to the Sith in the Chancellors office; force him to show his hand by making him believe that we are divided and vulnerable. Skywalker could feed the information and then we would be ready when the Sith made his or her move. A trap."

Obi-Wan blinked, absorbing the information at a pace that was intolerably slow. His rational mind immediately saw what Mace and Yoda were thinking, the strategic advantage they had in exploiting this opportunity. His logical mind knew that the potential benefit was extraordinary: they would capture the Sith, end the war, rid the galaxy of darkness all in one fell swoop. His rational mind completely agreed. His emotional mind, however, was in an uproar.

He ventured very slowly. "This plan, it puts an extreme risk on Anakin," he said softly, uncertain how he should negotiate this. "He'll be in close proximity to the Sith Lord; a creature that obviously has a high degree of skill in manipulation and controlling other beings. The Sith could try to use Anakin as much as..." _as much as you are about to use him,_ quickly changed to, "The Sith could send his own misinformation. Besides, playing a double agent is extremely stressful, I'm not sure Anakin..." He didn't want to say it out loud, say that Anakin's passion and compassion, his innate fear of loss and his desperate clinging to those that were close to him made him vulnerable to the Darkside; that he had already _touched_ the Darkside when his emotions took control of him. The only way he could voice his concern was to look to Mace. "We talked about this before," he said lamely, cursing himself. "Master Windu, Mace, you were just saying the other day that Anakin should stay as far away from Palpatine as possible."

Mace leaned back, his gaze narrow and intimidating.

"Skywalker is not my first choice, no," he admitted. "But it would appear that in this we do not have an option."

"Meditate on this we must," Yoda said at last, his eyes opening. "Many dangers there are, many risks. Tread carefully we must. Make lightly this decision, we should not."

"I agree," Shaak Ti said, standing. "We must commune with the Force and ask for its guidance. There are many insights it may be able to afford us."

The five slowly got up and dispersed; Mace stalking off to inform the other Council members, Shaak Ti to begin her meditations. Yoda eyed Obi-Wan for a long time before hobbling off to parts unknown. Kit Fisto lingered, also eyeing Obi-Wan. Finally, though, the aquatic Jedi put a comforting hand on the human's shoulder. "I know how close you are," he said gently. "We must hope for the best. The Force knows what it's doing, and we will let it guide us."

Obi-Wan nodded mutely, thankful for Kit's friendship.

He turned his thoughts to Anakin, hoping the other Jedi had a better grasp on his emotions now that they could talk.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Again, things are different. Anakin knows things he's not supposed to and the Council gets a heads up on things that they wouldn't have. Gotta love what that bond does, ne? We like the idea of a chibi Mace and chibi Yoda telling whoever is giving them the Senate that they're morons and then getting kicked out. ^_^ Note that Palpatine is still "getting" to Anakin. Anakin still has a lot of insecurities and suspicions, to say nothing of trust for Palpatine, to not take these allegations seriously. But Obi-Wan has a much easier time setting him straight. For Anakin, Palpatine is just another poor victim of the Sith's influence. Of course, two people Anakin are loyal to, Obi-Wan and Palpatine, are offering very different (read: opposing) views of things at the moment and he can't support both.

Next week: Dooku's view of things.


	38. Where Dooku Is Interviewed

**Where Dooku Is Interviewed**

By Dooku's estimation, he wouldn't be bothered by the Jedi for three days. No one, _no one,_ had expected him to surrender himself to the Jedi, deciding what to do would be cause for great debate. The thought of causing such a great stir in the Council made the former Jedi smile. He found himself wondering if Qui-Gon would be proud. The thought brought the painful sting of regret.

Dooku was a man who was slow to realize his mistakes, a trait he'd passed on to Qui-Gon by all accounts. The difference between them however, was that Qui-Gon, upon realizing his error, went out of his way to correct the problem. Dooku's actions were often more ambiguous and depended upon the mistake. An error on a mission - a life or death decision - had to, of course, be immediately rectified. A lesser offense, perhaps a personal dispute between friends, did not always merit correction, or even apology. Far better to assess if the correction was in one's best interests or not. One must never willingly put one's self at risk; it simply wasn't proper.

In not putting himself at risk, Dooku learned - much, much later - that he had missed out on experiencing Qui-Gon Jinn to the fullest in his apprenticeship. At the time it was a perfectly reasonable decision, the boy was a walking headache. Dooku had lost track of the number of times he'd felt frustration, irritation, and yes, _anger_, at his Padawan as he jumped at every conceivable opportunity to run off on some side-quest during a mission, to help every vagabond he ever came across, to take in all manner of injured creatures to the apartments, to track dirt in from the most deplorable of places, and to talk back to him at every opportunity and question the decisions he made. A vein pulsed just thinking about it! Dooku had felt more than within his rights to keep a safe distance from the child.

It wasn't until years later, after Qui-Gon's knighting, that hindsight softened and blurred all that frustration, dulled its blade when he would return to his apartments and find only silence and immaculate order that he had left. Life had somehow become... dull... after Qui-Gon had become a Knight. He acknowledged the mistake, if only to himself, that he should have done more during the apprenticeship. But the offense was minor, he'd rationalized, and not worthy of deliberately seeking out Qui-Gon. Perhaps bring it up on a shared mission, or when they were both wrestling with the Council to open their eyes and start changing before they stagnated.

Dooku did admit more than a small amount of pride that Qui-Gon had picked up on his habit of questioning the Council's decisions and turning it into an art form.

But his second mistake was that he had never reconciled with Qui-Gon, never told the impetuous brat that his company was enjoyed. It was Qui-Gon's death that made him realize it, and of course by then it was too late to do anything about it; he knew nothing of Qui-Gon's apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi, did not feel appropriate introducing himself and offering council. He had instead resolved to see justice over Qui-Gon's murder served.

It never was.

The Council accepted the travesty.

And so he left.

It was the straw that broke the nerf's back, the latest in a long list of offenses the Council had done that had proven with utter finality that the Jedi Order was beyond hope. Even now, back inside their walls he could not feel nostalgia for a location that had been his home for decades. All he could see was failure left and right, weak Knights, pervasive feelings of anxiety and fear, and no _life_. The Jedi Order had morphed from a brotherhood to an institution, and he could not stand for it.

And so his very presence shook things up. It filled him with perverse pleasure, and the feeling gave him strength.

Dooku had estimated the interview would be conducted only by Councilors; better not to risk the weaker to his temptations, no doubt. Four sounded about right, to "protect" themselves if he tried anything. Never mind the Force collar around his neck or his complete compliance. These things could not be trusted. He expected Yoda of course; the backbone of the Order was required for this kind of situation. Windu was another likely candidate. The other two he was less certain of, he did not know the younger Council members. Ki-Adi-Mundi would have been a good choice, or perhaps the blunt Agen Kolar. In a very private chamber of his mind, he hoped to see Kenobi, Qui-Gon's legacy. He wanted to see what parts of his Padawan had rubbed off on Kenobi aside from the skill in Ataru.

His time of solitude gave him much to meditate on.

As he predicted, three days had passed.

As he predicted, Yoda and Windu were there.

As he hoped, Kenobi arrived.

As he had never guessed, Skywalker marched in behind his old master. The boy was staring at him through dark eyes, he was upset about something - what Dooku didn't know but one didn't need the Force to see it. Even now the boy was completely out of control. Letting him participate in the interview was ludicrous, it would only hurt their position. _What_ was the Council thinking?

"Am I so beneath your notice that you think an untested _Knight_ worthy of sitting in on these interrogations?" Dooku asked, not without some scorn.

He watched Skywalker's aggressive frown deepen in rage - the boy seemed easy to bait, and Dooku would have been more than content in driving him from the room so he could get the _real_ work started. Yoda and Windu put on good faces; he would enjoy forcing them to remove young Skywalker. Kenobi reached up and gripped the boy's arm, and the two held and extended staring contest; Dooku realized they were speaking through their bond, and he remembered the startling closeness he'd sensed on the _Invisible Hand_. The others were watching, too, and Dooku was suddenly left infinitely curious on what those impassive faces were thinking as they watched a bond they surely must have disapproved of.

Skywalker suddenly sneered at Dooku as he made a show of taking a seat, Kenobi and the others following.

"You needn't worry Count," he said in bland tones. "Chancellor Palpatine just wanted to make certain you didn't try anything. Who better to look after you than the one that beat you?"

A poor attempt at dun moch, and a giveaway besides. Dooku knew, of course, that Sidious had done much to insert himself into the Jedi Order; this was a statement of how far he had come. It gave Dooku an idea of where the Sith Lord was in his plans and what his goals were.

"Questions we have," Yoda said slowly, garnering everyone's attention. "Answer them, we would like."

"We all have questions," Dooku replied with genial civility. "I would like to know if you can truly see what is happening to you. I would like to know why the Jedi have been allowed to fall so far, or what prompted you to ever think knighting Skywalker was a good idea. I would like to know why you let Qui-Gon's murderers free. But we all-"

"You have no right to talk about Qui-Gon," Skywalker hissed, fury covering his face.

"Anakin, it's fine," Kenobi said softly, his gaze on Dooku unwavering but oddly intense.

Now _that_ was interesting: Skywalker getting angry on behalf of Kenobi? The pair were talking through the bond again, and Dooku watched in fascination as Skywalker again backed down. No wonder Sidious wanted Kenobi killed, he was a walking restraint for his precious apprentice-to-be. Another opportunity to foil Sidious' plans, now the question was this: keep the boy clinging to the Light, or turn him to the Darkside and set him loose on Sidious? He would have to meditate on the merits of both options. It made him smile.

"Who is the Sith lord in control of the Senate?" Windu asked.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Dooku replied calmly.

"Sense the lie I do," Yoda replied, his eyes closed and his head tilted back slightly, in commune with the Force. "Easier it would be, if told the truth you did."

"Really, Master," Dooku said, "Where would the sport in that be?"

And that was how it started. Windu and Yoda asked most of the questions; Kenobi and Skywalker appeared to be the observers. Both had their eyes closed in meditation, sensing the ebb and flow of the Force around Dooku's words, looking for truths or half-truths or partial truths. Dooku wasn't going to make this easy for them, and often he simply denied everything or changed the subject. Skywalker's frustration was more than apparent even with the Force collar inhibiting his connection to its mysteries. His frown was enormous; he must have been a marvelous pouter when he was a child. Kenobi, though, he was utterly level, like Yoda and Windu. Dooku wondered why Kenobi held such fascination with him, but he needed only a moment's self-reflection to understand that this boy was the only surviving connection to Qui-Gon that existed. Of course he'd be interested. He eyed Skywalker and his obvious connection to Kenobi, and decided to test the waters.

Utterly ignoring Yoda's question, he focused his gaze on Kenobi. "He's trying to kill you, you know," he said gently.

Kenobi's eyes snapped open, the only visual mark of his surprise. Skywalker was more theatrical, reeling back and gasping audibly.

"What?" Kenobi asked slowly, putting on an air of not understanding what Dooku had said.

"My master," Dooku said, throwing a smug grin to Windu and Yoda. It was a rebuttal of his denials, but he took great pleasure in the fact that he offered this information of his own volition instead of being forced by those two charlatans. "He has been known, on occasion, to try very, very hard to kill you."

"Over my dead body," Skywalker hissed, his face a palette of anger and protective fury.

"Patience," Kenobi whispered, not even turning to Skywalker, refusing to break eye contact with Dooku. To the Count he said, "Why?"

"That would ruin the surprise, don't you think?" Dooku responded, sneering. "I owe my master no loyalty after his betrayal, but that does not mean I am going to openly thwart a Sith Lord as many would expect. I do have principals, you know."

"If you have no loyalty," Windu said, "Then why do you protect him?"

Dooku turned to the Korun Master. "Because I was a Jedi first; and despite what you all have _become_," he rolled out with disgust, "_I_, at least, still subscribe to what a Jedi is _supposed_ to be. Out of loyalty to that principal I hold my tongue. And out of that loyalty I give Kenobi the friendly reminder that he has a price on his head, a machination to have him removed from the game board so that other players will be accessible."

"It will never happen," Skywalker growled, his face as black as the leather he wore. "I won't let it."

Dooku just couldn't let that go, and so he put on a sneer. "'Let it'? My dear boy, how could you stop it? Tell me, on what planet of this galaxy do you actually believe that you can stop Kenobi from dying?"

He knew he had hit a nerve because _Kenobi_ - fiercely reticent till now - actually _turned away_ from Dooku, breaking eye contact to face Skywalker, hissing "_Anakin_," before the two fell silent, glaring at each other.

The remaining three, Dooku, Yoda and Windu, were left to watch two Jedi fight bitterly along a bond that should have faded but instead was now stronger than anything anyone had ever seen. Dooku enjoyed the silent show; Skywalker was easy to manipulate and the more Kenobi calmed the errant child, the more Dooku learned about their relationship, their strengths, and their weaknesses. Information in this war was vital; Dooku had learned this the hard way as he glanced at his missing hands. He could still feel his fingers, kept trying to make them move and was surprised they simply weren't there. After three days of constant medical check-ups, probes, questions, samples, and trays filled with bacta to staunch infection and quicken the healing process, Dooku no longer felt constant pain. This was not to say he didn't feel it, however, because Yoda finally broke the silence:

"With your threats, are you happy?" he asked.

Dooku looked to the green frog-troll. His former master, the pillar of the Jedi order, and he felt a flare of bitter anger. Unlike Skywalker, still arguing mentally with Kenobi, Dooku could control his anger. He could compartmentalize it, break it down and identify its source, and then find a solution to remove the emotion. He did not have the liberty here, Yoda's ignorance or arrogance were not going to fade overnight. Ah, but then, perhaps if his cage were rattled...

Dooku leaned forward, putting his amputated limbs on the table and leaning on them. It hurt viciously, but it gave him, too, focus.

"Happy?" he asked with genial tones to coat the visible layer of ice in his voice. "No, I most certainly am _not_ happy. I haven't _been_ happy for years. Decades. I have been betrayed by my master_s_," he made a point of emphasizing the plural, "and tossed aside for better pickings or better adherence to a shamble of a Code. I rather think the question of my happiness is moot."

He let go of the ice then, in favor of a smooth, menacing silk. "I propose, Master Yoda, that the better question is if _you_ are happy." He smiled, and it was malicious. "Are _you_ happy to see two Jedi, one of them a Master and Councilor, have an argument with a Knight? Better still, are you happy that it is occurring right under your nose, along a bond that I certainly expect no one to approve of?" Skywalker glanced at Dooku, but the older man ignored it in favor of playing with Yoda.

"Tell me," he said, leaning back and caressing a leg. "Is your disapproval because of the blatant sign of attachment that the two share? For Skywalker it is to be expected - he is only a youngling after all - but it makes Kenobi downright awe-inspiring because he has this attachment and can still remain such an ideal Jedi. Does it bother you to see a breach of your precious Code and yet still have a functional soldier at your disposal?

"Or perhaps you disapprove simply because you cannot control it? You have been on the Council for centuries, Master Yoda; you must certainly have grown accustomed to people listening to your advise and doing as you say. You've steered the very future of the Order and now that it is about to be destroyed I can only imagine that you are desperate for command of what little else is in your grasp. After all, control over every Jedi in this artifice is no longer enough, now you have command of that clone army you're so proud of. Will the Republic itself be next? Will that satisfy you?"

Skywalker snapped his gaze to Dooku again - was he fighting and listening at the same time? Interesting... - and frowned deeply at Dooku's accusations. Sidious must have already planted the suggestion then.

That was all the information he needed, for now, and he stood. "Gentlemen," he said with polite decorum, "This interview is over."

Skywalker jerked to his feet, ready to protest, but Yoda stood as well. "Agreed," he said, supporting himself on his gimmer stick. "Much we have learned; much to meditate upon, you have given us." Kenobi and Windu stood.

Just for the reaction, Dooku gave a slight bow and said, "Gentlemen, I remain humbly at your service."

The glare that Skywalker gave and the hand that snapped out to grip his arm made it worth it.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Dooku makes for an interesting head to visit sometimes. Since he's survived, and been horribly betrayed by Sidious (not that he probably wasn't planning his own betrayal some day), he's had confidences shattered from both sides. Dooku _was_ Qui-Gon's Master and was a leading Jedi and one of their best fencers for decades. Yet whenever you talk of Sith, the first ideas that always come to mind are Vader and Sidious. Makes you feel bad for Dooku, since he's such a complex character. Even here, we don't spend as much time in this third arc with him as we'd like, but we just of other (more important) things to do.

Next week: Politics are a bitch sometimes. Poor Ahsoka...


	39. Where Politics Swirl

**Where Politics Swirl**

Anakin's jaw was somewhere on the floor as he let out a soft "What?" at the indignity he'd just heard. "The High Council is a group of _Masters_. How can I be on the Council, but not a _Master_?"

No, Anakin hadn't wanted to be put on the Council like this. He had always envisioned his being put on the Council because of his merits, because of all the work he'd done, because he'd _earned_ it. Palpatine, despite ulterior motives of distrust, had been very generous to select him to be on the Council. And Anakin _had_ done wonders over the course of this war. There was a kriffing good reason he and Obi-Wan were the go-to guys of the Republic. Hadn't he _earned_ the right to be here?

Hadn't he _proven_ he was worthy of being a Jedi by now? Proven that Obi-Wan was an exemplary teacher and that Qui-Gon hadn't just plucked him off a desert world and away from everything he'd ever known for a vague hunch?

He was a successful Jedi! They trusted him with missions, but not with being a Master?

"We will keep our own council on who is to be a Master, young Skywalker," Mace firmly stated.

The jibe at his age, intended or not (and Anakin suspected it _was_ intended) stung more than he wanted it to. He opened his mouth to question, because _tradition_ at least would say his being on the Council made him a Master, even if the actual Council didn't admit it.

_And have you faced that paralyzing fear of yours?_ Obi-Wan asked in quiet, hopeful tones.

It made all of Anakin's frustrations and indignation melt away.

Obi-Wan had discussed this with him before. Being a Master was about control of self. Not what he'd done, not how much effort he put towards it, but the effort he put toward _mastering_ himself.

Anakin knew what he needed to do to be a Master. He needed to face the cause of the icy, overpowering, _buried_ fear he had of being alone. He had poked at it many times, but always put off fully facing. There was always time later, after the war, after Padme gave birth to that beautiful child of theirs, after Ahsoka was Knighted. But deep down, Anakin knew he was scared to face that fear. Scared that the fear would beat him somehow. So he delayed.

Yet Obi-Wan believed in him. He didn't ask that question with smugness, or chiding. Obi-Wan asked because he believed Anakin could do it. Would be there every step of the way if Anakin wished it. So Obi-Wan asked that question hopefully, because for Obi-Wan, it was merely a matter of time before Anakin faced, and acknowledged his fear before letting it pass to the Force.

Anakin felt horrible. Like he was letting Obi-Wan down with all his evasions of properly doing what needed to be done. But he wasn't. Obi-Wan merely radiated calm belief and faith in Anakin.

Letting out a long sigh, Anakin bowed to the Council. "Forgive me, Masters. This just all so... sudden. I find myself unbalanced by how swiftly this happened and how against tradition it goes."

Across from him Obi-Wan simply gave a serene smile.

* * *

Padme snuggled deeper into Anakin's embrace, too tired to do anything more. It had been a long and frustrating day and all she really wanted at that moment was to just be held by her husband. He seemed to understand that when he'd arrived. They had had a quiet dinner, playfully guessing if their child would be a boy or a girl and what to name it. How the child would be born, where, and what they'd do afterwards was not mentioned. Anakin, as always, seemed to sense she couldn't handle the worry at the moment.

Giving a brief squeeze, Padme pulled out of her wonderful snuggle enough to look at him. Reaching up, she brushed his dark curls out of his face, admiring as he smiled contently at her.

She didn't want to bring it up. She was exhausted and torn, but who knew when they'd ship off her beloved husband again? Just because Palpatine had put him on the Council did not guarantee he'd stay home. Obi-Wan was proof of that. Those two were _the Team_, who could and _would_ get things done where no other being could.

It was because she never knew when she'd see him again that Padme let out a soft sigh. "Anakin, may I..." she stumbled on the wording. She was safe in his arms. He'd never allow any harm to come to her if he could stop it. She loved him _so much_ for that. So much so that she reciprocated it. She'd do anything in her power to prevent him from being hurt. It was why she pushed for a diplomatic end to the fighting; so that her husband wouldn't be in harm's way.

And now she was going to do something that could hurt him. Deeply. And she saw no alternative.

"Anakin, while you and Ahsoka are here on Coruscant, may I borrow Ahsoka?"

Her sweet, loving husband kissed her temple. "Of course. Now that I'm on the Council, we don't have to worry about the file work. I can just assign her to-"

"Unofficially, Anakin." Padme swallowed. "It has to be unofficially. No data trail."

He hugged her tightly for a moment. "Anything you need. I know she'll be in good hands."

Though he didn't mean to, that just stung her all the more. She may not be _lying_, but she was _omitting_ and that was _just_ as bad in her mind.

"Angel?" he asked gently, pulling her closer.

The frustration and inability of it all swelled with her wildly fluxuating hormones and Padme broke down into tears.

"Angel?" Anakin's face was etched in concern as he brought up a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Padme, what's wrong?"

Anger flared so easily in Padme, giving her the energy to sit up and start gesticulating with every sentence.

"That's the problem!" she shouted. "I can't tell you! I can't tell you why I need Ahsoka; I can't tell you why I'm angry that I have to _do_ this! That I can't say anything!" She ran her hands roughly through her curls, all her political experience in staying calm completely out the window because this wasn't _right_ and she could do _nothing_.

Anakin sat before her, no doubt broadcasting, somehow, that calm that was quickly filling her. She didn't _want_ to be calm. Just this once, she wanted to be angry about the position she was in. But sweet, attentive, infuriating Anakin didn't deserve this. Ultimately, she let out a sigh. Anger would be bad for the baby.

"I'm sorry, Ani," she mumbled, letting her head sink into her hands. With her composure back and adrenaline still in her system, her brain started working.

Anakin deserved an explanation. He wouldn't be able to get all of it, but he'd _get_ an explanation.

"I'm here for you, Padme," Anakin said, a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you need me to be, I'll be."

She gave a small bitter chuckle. "We've been over that," she said. "Just be you."

Deep breath.

"I had a difficult meeting today."

"Really? I never would have guessed."

She lightly swatted him.

"_Quiet_ you!" Padme took another deep breath, deciding to start earlier.

"As a politician, I know that many will view me as an automatic liar, someone who will say one thing and do another. There are so many politicians who do that anyway, but I believe in my position enough that I'll put up with those opinions and do what's right anyway."

"That's why I love you so much," Anakin grinned. "Even Obi-Wan's gotten fond of you and he _despises_ politicians, though he'd never say so openly."

Padme smiled back. "True, but the reason why I've gotten his friendship is because I'm _honest_. When I make a promise, I keep it, especially to the people. I work hard to find a compromise that will suit everyone's needs." She sighed.

"Today's meeting was unexpected to me. What was discussed... well... that's difficult to express right now. But the agreement at the end of the meeting was to keep everything a secret. Even from our families." She grimaced, tugging her hair again. "One of the Senators... It's well known he shares everything with his wife and even he agreed to stay quiet. I made that promise too, but I'm _so_ torn over it!"

Anakin nodded solemnly. "You think it's something I should know. _Need_ to know. But if you break the promise, you'd feel like your breaking everything you stand for and believe in."

Padme nodded, then scowled. "Anakin! No reading my mind!"

He brought his hands up defensively. "Sorry! You're just broadcasting really loud. I can't help it!"

She huffed.

Anakin pulled her close but as good as it felt to have his arms around her, it didn't help how unfair this was.

"Can you tell me why you need Snips without spilling the muja?"

Padme hesitated, working the question around in her mind. She could. It still felt wrong to the committee, but it felt like the right thing to do for Anakin. Finally, she relaxed into his embrace again.

"I suggested we bring in a Jedi for our discussions."

"Thinking of me or Obi-Wan, I bet."

"Stop reading my mind!"

"That wasn't you broadcasting." His arms tightened. "That's me knowing you so well."

"Hmph. Anyway, I was surprised to see how little they trust you."

Anakin sighed this time. "I'm not surprised. This war has turned everything we believe in upside down." He held her close. "Rumors have reached the Council that some think the Jedi are planning to take over the Republic."

"Preposterous!"

"Of course."

Padme reached up, cupping her husband's face, running a finger down his scar.

"Well, with their distrust, they weren't keen on letting a Jedi in so early. I suggested a compromise of only one Jedi, and several said no. They don't want a Council member if they can't trust the Jedi-"

"Leaving both me and Obi-Wan out of the question."

Well, that was one reason why they wouldn't take Anakin. But she didn't want to think about that right now.

"Right. So as a compromise, I suggested a Padawan. That way, we have someone who can listen to Jedi opinions and such without having any power in the Order itself."

"Hence asking for Snips."

Padme nodded.

"We can call it an exercise for her in reading politicians," he said after a moment. "Neither of us like this. It's too close to dishonest for both of us. But this is the best we can do. I won't even ask Snips what you're talking about."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I wish I could see a better way."

They settled back into bed.

"Send her over tomorrow night. I'll be having dinner with some of the others. They can feel her out that way."

* * *

Ahsoka was nervous. For the last month that she'd been on Coruscant, she, her master, and his master had dined at Padme's so much that she wondered how she'd ever lived without it. But tonight was the first time she'd ever gone alone.

Anakin had pulled her aside, even though he was late for a Council meting, and told her that Padme was having some Senator's over and he'd thought it would be a good idea for her to go as well.

When Ahsoka had demanded why, he'd simply grimaced and said it was practice for her Force perceptions. The following day, Ahsoka was to report her sense of the Senators to Padme to see if she'd been correct.

That explanation didn't satisfy Ahsoka one bit. She would have asked more, but Master Plo comm'd her to see if she knew where her tardy master was.

She was _going_ to pin down her master after this dinner and _get_ some answers.

But until then her stomach was doing flip-flops and she could only hope she made a good impression. She glanced down at her robes, feeling oddly constrained in their loose folds. Normally, if she came across a politician, she was deep on the front lines dealing with some disaster or other. It was because she was fighting so much that she wore clothing that wouldn't get in the way of her bladework. (She couldn't help but wonder how Master Ti could fight in long skirts and flowing robes...)

She ran a hand along them, hoping she looked okay. This wasn't meeting some dignitary to protect in a war zone; this was a party. A political function of some of the leading voices in the Senate for peace and diplomacy.

She took a deep breath and tried to let her anxiety out into the Force. It was difficult. She may have handled skirmishes and assaults without the other Jedi to guide her, but she'd always had clones to back her up. This was the first time she'd truly been on her own and it was with _politicians_.

Granted, Ahsoka knew Padme and Senator Chuchi of Pantora, both of whom she considered friends. But her experiences with politicians one-on-one were far and few between outside of those two. The stories she'd heard from both her master and Master Obi-Wan didn't give her the best of views of Senators on the whole. But a Jedi kept an open mind.

Or at least she tried to.

If she wasn't so nervous.

_You'll do fine, Ahsoka. They won't eat you or shoot at you. At worst, you'll be snubbed, but you'll have Padme at your side so you won't be lonely._

_ Sorry to disturb you, Master._ Ergh! She'd been _working_ on her shielding! What more did she have to do?

_Settle down. You're shields are slipping because you're so nervous and shielding this strong isn't second nature to you yet._ There was a small hesitation. _We can do this a different day, if you want._

She couldn't tell if he was teasing her or honestly concerned. Either way, she answered, _NO. I can do this!_

_ Alright Snips. Contact me if you need anything._

_ Anakin, Master Windu asked you a question..._

Obi-Wan's gentle sarcasm made Ahsoka giggle as she entered the hall. She could never figure out how she could hear him through her bond with Anakin, but it never ceased to amuse her.

Once in the hall, Ahsoka took another moment to center herself. If this was supposed to be practice, she might as well. She stood off to the side and reached for the Force. Noise was never a distraction for her; she'd had to touch the Force too often in battle. But using the Force to find a familiar face in this crowd of thousands and for that familiar face be not Force-sensitive was far more difficult than she'd hoped.

Subtle usages of the Force, like this or a mind-trick were always so foreign to her. All her time on the front lines had made pushes and jumps and her lightsaber instinctual. Even feeling for Anakin's blinding presence, or Obi-Wan's or any other Jedi, was something she could do in her sleep.

But this? She was shocked and disappointed to see how much she was struggling. And after ten minutes, she gave up and asked a waiter droid where Padme was.

Ahsoka finally found Padme, talking with some of the heavy hitters for diplomacy. She couldn't quite stop her gulp. She started to edge herself away to take another deep breath, but to her immense dislike, Padme spotted her.

"Ahsoka! I'm so glad you could come." Said Padawan found the Senator pulling her forward and introductions being made. "Padawan Ahsoka Tano, these are Fang Zar, Bail Organa, and Mon Mothma."

"Ah... Hello," she said quietly before bowing deeply. Padme gave her a reassuring squeeze and she could feel Anakin sending some of his overflowing confidence her way.

The Senators must have noticed how nervous she was, and all smiled encouragingly, engaging her in polite conversation. Being Senators, all of them could let conversation flow easily, most of it, Ahsoka noticed, being questions about herself and what life was like as a Padawan, giving her familiar ground so that she could work away her anxiety. She was grateful for this, and used the time to reach for the Force to try and let her bubbling feelings go so that she could be calmer. She also tried to use the Force to gauge reactions, though this was much harder, since it was a far more subtle use of the Force than she was used to.

It was an hour later that things started to get interesting.

Senator Zar, sitting across from Ahsoka at the table they had migrated to, asked politely, "My dear. I must say, that I have never seen a Jedi at such a social event such as this. You usually keep to yourselves. Tell me, what brings you here?"

Ahsoka smiled, her hands in her sleeves gripping her arms as a physical way to release the nerves she was feeling at sitting with these influential people. "Because there's no need to," she stated simply.

"Oh?" Mon asked, a red brow raised.

She nodded. "Yes. If you don't mind my being... direct," because she didn't know anything about subtle, especially with Anakin as her master, "these functions serve many purposes. Yes, there is social interaction without the stress of being in the Senate Building, but also back-room meetings, forging political allies, checking on political adversaries, and so on." She shrugged, trying to look casual despite her nerves. "Jedi don't need that."

"How very interesting," Bail smiled. "And why don't Jedi need allies?"

Ahsoka shook her head. "It's not about allies, not like you think. Here, these functions are just as much about getting power, even for something as simple as being able to push a vote you feel is important. Jedi don't seek power. Seeking power is greed and covetousness, which lead to the Darkside."

"Hmmm, and yet," Fang leaned forward, resting his heavily bearded chin on a hand, "you Jedi have a great deal of power. You lead troops; you are called on for treaties and negotiations. One could argue that you have sought out this power, no?"

"No," Ahsoka stated firmly. "We go to treaties and negotiations because we are requested for our wisdom and insight. We go because the Force wills that we help keep peace. Jedi are peacekeepers."

"And yet, you fight." Mon sipped from her glass. "You are generals and commanders."

"Very true," she acquiesced, "but not by our choice."

"Not by choice?" Bail leaned back. "If you do not wish to fight in this war, why not just stay in the Temple?"

Ahsoka let out a frustrated sigh. Couldn't they _see_? It wasn't about that!

Padme put a hand on her shoulder. "Padawan Tano, why don't you try to explain the Jedi viewpoint of this war? For those of us like we Senators, who are so far removed from the front lines, there are things we just don't understand."

The young Padawan couldn't help but smile at Padme's encouragement. She paused, closing her eyes and taking a moment to gather her thoughts. "I'm not sure how to explain this," she admitted. "So much of what we believe in is taught at an early age, so if I talk about something you don't understand, please stop me?"

Everyone smiled gently.

"Okay." Deep breathe. Again. "A Jedi's first priority is to the people. We improve ourselves by improving the lives of others. A Jedi's life is one of public service. We can't ignore people who suffer. But to be able to help everyone throughout the galaxy, we'd have to have several hundred Jedi placed on every planet, depending on population." Ahsoka shook her head. "There just aren't enough of us. So we sort through thousands upon thousands of requests, seek guidance from the Force, and go where we are most needed." This much, at least, was easy to explain. Every youngling in the crèche knew this. "This works very well during peacetime, as it has for eons."

"But now, we are in a civil war," Fang said quietly, eyeing her closely.

Ahsoka nodded again. "Yes. So what is a Jedi to do? Sit in our Temple and watch as people suffer and die, or go out and fight to at least keep loss of life to a minimum?"

"Minimum?" Mon asked. "Some of these battles have _not_ been a minimum."

Ahsoka, despite her nerves and knowing that it probably wasn't a good idea, gave a cool glance at the red-headed Senator. "So, Senator Mothma, how do you keep loss of life to a minimum when you have one Jedi, a few thousand cones, and _millions_ of droids bearing down on you? Communication's already been shot down and it would be useless anyway, since the Jedi are spread out all across the galaxy? I was on such a mission once. My master had to have us retreat to the city. We evacuated the citizens as best we could, but we were _still_ vastly out-numbered easily a thousand to one. Despite trying to keep the citizens out of it, the _citizens_ wanted to defend their homes and _volunteered_ to help us. Should we have refused them?"

Pausing, Ahsoka let out a sigh. These were _Senators_. Aside from Padme, she doubted _any_ of them had seen the front lines at all. They just didn't _understand_ how battle worked. "We were at least able to clean up the remaining limbs and torsos for armor and gear," she said quietly. "Otherwise, given how cut off we were, we'd have been overrun." By far, it had been the worst battle she'd seen. Anakin had immediately sent her back to the Temple, telling the Council she needed time off the front to deal with it while they sent him and Obi-Wan off to another impossible task before they'd even had a chance to bury the dead. "You don't _feel_ the Force. A Jedi can feel life all around them. And we feel it every time it's cut short. Especially my master. Every single time someone under his command dies, it's like someone sliced out a piece of his soul. And if the two of us weren't there to do anything, the losses would have been so much _worse_." Ahsoka was certain of that. Deep down to the very basis of her being.

"We don't fight in this war because we _want_ to. But it's the only way to _help_ people."

There was a moment of silence between all of them, and Ahsoka suddenly realized that she had just mouthed off to a Senator. An important Senator. She looked down to her folded arms, trying not to blush. She couldn't _believe_ she'd forgotten herself like that! Anakin encouraged her to speak freely with him, but in the end he was her master and she treated him with respect because he _deserved_ it. So did every Jedi out there, and every being in the galaxy. But she could speak plainly with her master and other Jedi. That was _not_ a good idea with a Senator. Ooooh, she'd just messed up _badly_.

_Calm down, Snips. Whatever you said, don't worry about it. You answer to me and the Council if you made a mistake, not the Senate. They have no control over you._

_ But, Master! I-_

_ Focus on the here and now, Ahsoka. We can talk about it later._

Ahsoka let out a silent sigh. _Yes, Master_.

It was Padme who politely coughed and changed subject. "You say that you aren't always with your master? I thought a Padawan went everywhere with their master."

She readily accepted the change of subject. "That's right. That way we can observe our master and how they use the Force, as well as practical application of instead of just theory. But with this war, things have been... difficult in that endeavor." She nervously reached up and behind her head to rub her Padawan beads. "My master is frequently being sent into extremely dangerous missions, missions where it's just not safe for me to follow along. So he'll leave me in another master's care while he's busy."

"Such as?" Padme asked.

Ahsoka smiled. "I've worked with Master Kenobi, Master Windu, Master Koon, Master Fisto, Master Unduli..."

She trailed off, looking at the assorted Senators around her. Something had just _shifted_ in the Force. They'd gone from politely interested to curious throughout the conversation, but Fang, Bail, and Mon had gone from curious to _interested_ as she had started listing off the names of the masters she'd been with. There was something there. Something she couldn't grasp. Swiftly, she replayed the conversation in her head in hopes of seeing what she'd said to suddenly cause such interest.

Ahsoka couldn't see it. Why were they suddenly looking at her like that? Was it because she was always given to different masters? Panic flooded as she realized that it might sound like Anakin was an inattentive master. All at once, she had to defend Anakin.

"Of course, my master never likes having to leave me behind!" she started talking quickly. "He'll always argue with the Council about his responsibility to me and to not have his training of me so splotchy and such, but he's always needed elsewhere! He does everything he can to be attentive and be there for me! Please don't think poorly of him because of circumstances-"

"It's alright, Padawan Tano," Padme said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We don't think any less of your master, you don't need to defend him."

"But, but..." Ahsoka shook her head. "When I started talking about being with other masters, something _changed_. I can't think of why everyone's suddenly feeling differently about this, other than-"

"Oh, no! Not at all," Fang leaned forward. "Child, you've done nothing wrong." He smiled gently through his bushy beard. "We Senators look at things differently than you Jedi. I'd merely say that you got us looking at things in a new light."

Ahsoka still stumbled around her words. "But the focus of that shift was somehow on me..."

"Because you are so refreshingly direct," Mon replied. "Sometimes, I think Senators such as ourselves, who are stuck here on Coruscant so often, could use people like you around. I find your forthrightness a breath of fresh air. Might we contact you again?"

"Ahhhh, what? Me?"

Bail stood and placed a hand on her other shoulder. "You're overwhelmed, Padawan Tano. Don't let Senator Mothma push you into anything you don't feel comfortable with. Take a moment. Breath."

"Come on," Padme offered a hand. "I think you've had enough for one night."

Ahsoka took the escape offered, disappointed in herself for not handling anything well.

* * *

Anakin smiled softly, feeling the gentle life growing inside his beloved wife. They had both decided that they wanted the gender to be a secret. Personally, Anakin was _certain_ that it was a girl. And, just to be contrary, Padme was certain that it was _boy_. He rather enjoyed disagreeing with her on this.

It was early morning and Obi-Wan had reached through the bond to tell him that a Council meeting would take place within the hour. Grumpy as Anakin had been to get woken up for a _meeting_ when he much preferred holding his wife close, he'd worked too hard at keeping this secret to let one moment of selfishness let the nexu out of the bag. So he'd gotten up and Padme followed soon after, saying it was time she got up as well.

For the moment, however, Anakin was just holding a hand on her stomach, marveling at the tiny spark of life. He'd made this. He'd somehow made this with Padme; living proof of their love for one another. Something so tiny and delicate, yet shined so brightly.

On impulse, and a moment of impishness, Anakin bent down and kissed the tiny glow that was just so miraculous.

"Ani!" Padme giggled. "That tickles!"

He grinned rakishly at her, fingers already reaching for her sides. Laughing, she danced away. "You have a meeting, my love."

"I still have a half-hour."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? I think if you leave now, you just might make it through the traffic."

He shrugged easily. "Who says I have to follow the traffic?"

"_Ani_!"

Laughing himself, Anakin reached out and pulled her into his arms. Three months. Three months now, he'd been home with only a few quick missions still on Coruscant. It seemed like heaven to have such time with Padme. Granted, Obi-Wan firmly made sure that he only ever slipped out twice a week. After all, their marriage was a _secret_, and he had a Padawan to tend to. But even seeing her in the halls of the Senate Building was enough to make him smile for a day, no matter how difficult it was for him to sniff out the Sith who was using Palpatine.

"Love you," she whispered. "Love you so much." And despite the blocks he had over his bond with her for her privacy, Anakin was surprised at all the worry that was bleeding across.

"Padme? Something's bothering you."

She shook her head. "Sorry. I have... another _meeting_ today. Those always weigh heavily on my mind."

Anakin scowled. A _meeting_. She only used that tone when referring to the group that she believed in but had been sworn to secrecy with. Neither of them liked it. They skirted around her having to say anything, because Anakin knew how important it was for Padme to keep her word, but she did tell him what she could. Which was very little. They had argued about it briefly, when Anakin was weighed down by all the intrigue between the Council and the Chancellor and in a moment of selfishness, demanded if she was more loyal to him or the kriffin' committee. It was source of tension when neither of them needed any more. Anakin had grown up learning from both his mother and Obi-Wan that communication was always key. When one stopped talking, nothing was being heard and nothing was being expressed, leading to a stalemate. It was why he and Padme talked so much around what she _couldn't_ talk about for this group she would meet with. He understood where she stood. He loved her that she would stick to what she believed in. But it was sometimes hard.

But the life of a Jedi was hard, as Obi-Wan had warned him. And a Jedi must love selflessly; else the risk could result in something terrible. So Anakin listened. He did what he could. And despite how difficult it could be, he trusted Padme to do the right thing.

"Anakin?"

"Hmm?"

"Could you... I..."

Anakin pulled away to look at her face. Indecision was warring there. She was fighting something that was along the grey areas of her ethics. He sent support to her along the bond, even though she couldn't sense him.

Finally, Padme let out a sigh. "This will have to be quick, but, can we sit down for a minute?"

For her? Anything. "Of course." Already, a part of him was sending word to Obi-Wan that he was going to be late because Padme wanted to talk about something important.

Once seated at the couch, Padme grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly, looking down. "Anakin..." She sighed again. Finally she looked up to him, straightening her back, and squeezing his hand again. "What do you think of what Chancellor Palpatine's been doing lately?"

Anakin scowled, rolling his eyes. "_This_ again." He'd been hearing this from all corners for so long now. The cynical news reporters were talking so much lately about how much power the Senate gave the Chancellor, to say nothing of all the grumbles from the Jedi about Palpatine now having direct control over them. "Look, he's a _good_ man. The _Senate_ is the one _giving_ him all the power. And, just like the Jedi, just like you and me, he's doing the best he can with everything that's on his shoulders. At least he's able to do something." He gave her a soft repentant look. "I know you're a Senator and you love your work, but can you picture the _Senate_ trying to decide anything about this war? It's only because we've had Palpatine that anything's been able to get done with any success." He used his free hand to tug his bangs. "Everyone says that something is wrong with the way things going. Fine, I _agree_ because I'm _sick_ of war. But I don't see anyone else offering any suggestions."

With a sigh, he looked down, squeezing her hand back. "I'm not angry at you, angel. But I think that if you see something wrong, you should fix it. Lots of people say something is wrong, but no one other than Palpatine has stepped up to _do_ anything about it." He rubbed his thumb along the back of her knuckles. "He's a good man. A wise man. He'll do what's right."

Padme nodded, lowering her head. "I must admit; I no longer share as much faith in him as you do."

"That's okay," he replied, placing his free hand over their intertwined ones. "We can't agree on everything."

She placed her free hand over his. "I think that all this responsibility may be starting to affect him."

He snorted. "Abuse of power?"

She shrugged. "Maybe not intentionally. But he's not a young man any more. He's sixty-two, and while I have no doubt that there are many decades left in him, there's no denying that the position of Chancellor always ages a man. There's a lot of stress in the job, and he's been there for over ten years. However the Senate keeps voting power to him, whether he's orchestrating it or the Senate is just stupid. I can't help but wonder how much longer before the stress of it all gives him a heart attack."

And that a _Sith_ was manipulating him. Anakin still couldn't forget that cold realization when Mace discussed the fact that someone close to Palpatine was the Sidious they were looking for. And Anakin couldn't forget that Palpatine had _ordered_ him to kill Dooku when under extreme duress on the _Invisible Hand_.

"With Dooku captured, now should be the time to start opening channels of diplomacy," Padme continued. "He's _not_. I can't help wondering where the man I believed in and who was such a great support during that crisis on Naboo has gone."

Anakin let out a sigh. "The Chancellor _is_ under great stress," he conceded. "I think he needs a vacation at the least. A chance to rest and recuperate before tackling all of this again. But who's supposed to fill in for him? Who can pick up if he leaves? I don't think anyone would do half as good a job as he's doing, despite all your concerns."

Padme nodded, squeezing his hands. "He listens to you; you're his friend. Perhaps you can start suggesting he take a break? For his health if nothing else. Ask him to propose a cease-fire so he can rest-"

Suddenly, anger flared. "Not you _too_!" he growled.

"Excuse me?"

He stood, pacing angrily. "It's bad enough the Council keeps telling me what to do with the Chancellor, despite how much Obi-Wan's argued against it! It's bad enough that the Chancellor wants me to do the same likewise! And in both cases _I'm_ the bad guy if I don't want to hurt the other. I'm a _traitor_ to the Jedi if I don't help the Council watch our _Chancellor_, the same way that I'm a traitor to the Republic if I don't keep watch on the Council. Don't _I_ get a say in any of this?"

"I'm only asking..."

He swiveled to her, controlling himself enough to not let out all of the anger on her. "Everyone's _only_ asking. 'Do this for us, please? You're the Chosen One. Surely _you_ can do it.' 'I just don't trust them, son. The rumors I'm hearing are so disturbing. With your wisdom and abilities, certainly _you_ can keep an eye on him.' It never ends!"

Obi-Wan's concern swelled in the back of his head, worry coming across for whatever was upsetting him. _Probably this damned position he's been put in,_ was the quiet thought. Padme's quiet reassurance filtered in as well. _My love. You're under such pressure. The last thing I want to do is add to it._ Interspersed in all of it, was Ahsoka, suddenly anxious over an assignment, but she wasn't sure why. _Ergh, I wish my Master was here. He's always so good at explaining this nonsense!_

For all three, he took a deep breath and released. Padme hadn't meant it that way. Things were just spiraling beyond his control so quickly, he felt dizzy. All this plotting and intrigue and counter-maneuvering was all hinged on him and he didn't know which way he was supposed to go anymore. About the only thing he wanted, aside from selfishly running away with Padme, was to rout out Sidious. Then it would all be _over_ and things could go back to normal.

For all three, he sent reassurance and calm.

"Sorry," he mumbled, roughly running a hand through his hair. "You haven't done anything to deserve me blowing up at you like this."

Padme, angel that she was, smiled and came over to hug him. "You let me rant and rave. I think you can get away with occasionally needing to as well."

His love for her swelled so much, it was a wonder how he could contain any of it.

_Anakin?_

_ I'm fine, Obi-Wan._

There was a wave of concern anyway, along with a healthy dose of support. Anakin sent his thanks.

_The meeting?_

_ On my way._

_ Late again..._ his old master grumbled.

_Love you so much,_ Padme's voice was soft, barely there.

_Love you more_, he sent back, delighted that she was somehow able to focus on him enough to even send such a quiet message. This time near her was really helping their bond. He kissed her softly and pulled back.

"We can talk more later," he said.

She nodded. "Be _safe_," she stressed. "And take a break for yourself as well."

Anakin grinned. "Of course. I don't want to age prematurely like Obi-Wan, now would I?"

She swatted him. "Be nice! Even if he isn't here, he can hear you, can't he?"

He smiled unrepentantly.

Slipping up to her tiptoes, she kissed his nose playfully, before looking at him solemnly once more. "Think about all of this. Don't make any decisions, just think about it."

Anakin nodded. "I will."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Remember waaaay back we said how communication was going to be an important thing? Well if this doesn't show how, then we don't know what is. Anakin is someone who _needs_ to know things. And if he can't be told, you have to at least tell him _why_. It's not saying anything that raises his suspicions and starts planting doubt. But by this point he's had Obi-Wan teaching by example how to answer things and explain things, so its really no wonder at this point that Anakin is a bit more open as a communicator. And any relationship _must_ have a solid basis of communications. You may not like what someone has to say, but if it isn't said, it's left to fester and come out in the worst possible way. By being clear on things, even if you disagree, you prevent resentments from starting. Anakin may not _like_ bearing his soul about things he's not proud of, but by this point, Obi-Wan has already seen the worst he's done, accepted it, been disappointed, but _still_ supported him. How can Anakin not do likewise with such a great example?

As an aside, Ahsoka feels vaguely out of character in her bit. But then, we're not sure if she is or not. She does show hesitation in the show when she's on her own without Anakin there to support her, but she's always in battle and that requires plowing ahead. This is about as far from that as possible, and thus wildly outside of her comfort zone, hence her nerves. Yet it doesn't feel like it comes across right. Meeeeehh. Besides, this was written before Season 3 came out, and she seems more mature now with her new design. And we're still trying to portray her as a Padawan with more to learn...

But Ahsoka will remain an important character. She may not be a galaxy shaker like Ani/Obi/Padme/etc, but she has a role to play. Otherwise, adding her to this arc would be pointless.

Next week: Where Kenobi Must Die (Action at last!)


	40. Where Kenobi Must Die

**Where Kenobi Must Die**

Sidious had known from the beginning. If his plan was to work, if Skywalker was to be his ultimate apprentice, then the boy needed to be trained. Palpatine couldn't do it, not without revealing himself, and other factions were not as consistent. And so it made perfect sense to allow him to be trained by the Jedi; the added irony of the Jedi creating their very destruction brought many layers of satisfaction. The master had to be one that Skywalker would cling to, bond with, adore and admire - so as to make the master's inevitable death and/or betrayal all the more succulent. The master had to approve of Sidious seeing Skywalker, so he could plant the necessary seeds to fracture the relationship at a moment's notice.

He had been, at worst, mildly concerned who the boy's master would be but ultimately any Jedi would do, because he could manipulate any Jedi into doing his bidding. When word arrived that Kenobi had been chosen, and Sidious looked into the man's records, he'd been pleased beyond all expectations. An attachment prone, grieving, untested knight? Sidious was tempted to turn him on sheer principal, but Kenobi's role was already set and he needed a different kind of moral fiber for his next apprentice and his role in Sidious's plans.

The bond between the two was astonishing; even Sidious could detach himself enough to see and admire, marvel at what the two had created. The problem, however, came when the depth of the bond began to undo all the work Sidious had done to corrupt Skywalker. The deliciously dark tendencies the boy had were quickly and effectively quelled by Kenobi through the bond. The cracks Sidious had painstakingly put in their relationship had been swept away; the two were resolving their differences left and right and not to the Sith Lord's satisfaction.

He had learned more, since making Skywalker his personal representative. His access to the boy was much more consistent and he always had a penchant for talking to those he trusted. From Palpatine's harmless, skeptical questions, Sidious had gleaned and inferred a startling amount of information about what their bond could do.

It also explained why Kenobi was so damnably difficult to kill.

His chosen style of combat was nauseatingly defensive, making direct combat difficult, but not impossible. What Sidious learned, however, was that even systems away, Skywalker could sense his former master's danger and send word to Kenobi's accompanying clones to warn them and visa versa. This gave Kenobi an added layer of protection that was difficult to penetrate. Skywalker also dropped hints that the bond might possibly do even more, but for the fact that neither had time to experiment.

Of the two ways to decimate Skywalker's attachment to Kenobi, betrayal had been categorically nullified because of that wretched bond. Killing him, however difficult, was therefore, the only remaining option.

If they didn't have time to experiment, then Sidious would do it for them.

* * *

Obi-Wan peered out onto the crowd, sipping a wine glass full of water, and mentally debating why he was there. There was a _war_ going on, people were _dying_, systems were _falling_, and yet there he was, at a "political function."

He'd much rather be tortured by Ventress.

No, on second thought, he was glad to remember there _were_ worse things than politicians. He felt Anakin stroke the bond through all their constructed filters, feeling the bad memory and mentally hugging him. Really, Anakin was entirely too demonstrative, but at the same time, Obi-Wan would privately admit that he had grown very fond of hugs and the wisdom behind them.

Sipping his water, he threw his gaze over the crowd again, senses alert to any danger. The intel - or rather, _Palpatine's_ intel - was that there was "significant chatter" about something happening at this event; and of _course_ the logical thing to do - cancel, delay, or relocate, were all categorically ignored; and since CorSec clearly didn't know what they were doing, a _Jedi_ would be necessary to watch over the distastefully expensive... gala. Obi-Wan was mentally cataloging the crystals and fine wines and dresses and other fanfare, estimating their worth, and translating it into better armor for clones, more blasters and artillery, better training for independent thought, or even just more water rations. The thought disgusted him - even more so when he realized he was thinking like a soldier and not a Jedi. The two had always been mutually exclusive, when had that changed?

Obi-Wan shook his head, rubbing his beard. The interviews with Dooku continued to be fruitless, they learned very quickly that having either Obi-Wan or Anakin present was a Bad Idea, as Dooku seemed to love baiting Anakin, either literally or vicariously through Obi-Wan's bond with his partner. Worse, Obi-Wan knew that Anakin was sharing any information they did glean from the man - the occasional hidden base or planned strike - directly with Palpatine. Nothing as yet drew the hidden Sith Lord out, but the entire situation made Obi-Wan uncomfortable.

Summoning a waiter droid, he had his glass refilled and walked the perimeter of the promenade. CorSec already had guards - sentient and droid alike - positioned strategically up on the roofs, and also in the side alleys and major traffic ways. Obi-Wan felt he should be in the crowd for quick action if it was necessary. Something was hedging around the edge of his perceptions. He had a decidedly bad feeling, but every time he cast his feelings out he could not get a sense of direction, and so he moved about, picking out the Senators he knew. There was Padme with Bail and Mon Mothma; over there was Mas Amedda and Orn Free Ta, the Ryloth Senator. There was the Ithorian delegation and over there the Rhodian Senator and his staff. Disturbingly, there were many faces he didn't recognize. Midterm elections had brought about an enormous change in representation - and some of it not for the better, if Palpatine's latest vote was any indication.

Obi-Wan rubbed his beard again, tugging a favorite strand as he walked invisible through the crowd. He _wished_ they had enough information to draw the Sith out and force his hand. Whatever Anakin's opinion, Obi-Wan hated waiting as much as anybody; he just understood the necessity of it and the overpowering abilities it had.

A presence entered the function, a strong Force presence, and Obi-Wan blinked when he realized who had arrived, immediately walking over to her.

"_Ahsoka_?"

The Togrutan Padawan started. "Master Obi-Wan?"

Then, together, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Obi-Wan chuckled softly and raised his glass in a mock toast. "Security," he explained in dry tones. "Only the best for the Senate, you understand."

Ahsoka stared, wide-eyed. "You mean while everyone else-"

"Be mindful of where you are, Padawan," Obi-Wan interjected quickly, forestalling Ahsoka's outburst. The last thing the Jedi needed was bad press. The Sith would live it up. "You?"

"Senator Amidala asked me to come," she said in awkward tones. "Anakin says its good practice for my perceptions and instincts, but he never asks me about it. Padme does."

Sipping his overly-filtered water, Obi-Wan sent a soft question through the bond, and only got back a guilty sounding, _Don't ask_, that told Obi-Wan enough. Turning his attention back to Ahsoka, he said, "Then let's point you to the Senator. Unless you can do it yourself?"

Ahsoka closed her eyes in concentration, and Obi-Wan felt a muted pulse of her presence. Leaving her to her devices, the Jedi master went back to work, casting his senses out to ascertain where that bad feeling was coming from. It was just on the edge of his perception...

An hour later he'd finished his second glass of water and was again wondering why he was even there. He cast his senses out to locate Ahsoka and see how the Padawan was doing, but could not find her presence. Frowning, he circled the promenade again, wondering if she had left without saying goodbye. Impetuous she may have been, but she was never outright rude, even with Ana- Obi-Wan pulled up short, his eyes widening fractionally, the only visible sign of his shock.

For Ahsoka _hadn't_ left, she was at the other end of the gala, talking animatedly to Bail and Mon, and _Obi-Wan couldn't sense her_. He pulled in and focused, but he realized he could sense no one on the promenade, not even the other security people. He called out to the Force for help but _it didn't answer_. Everything felt flat, distant, lifeless; there was no song or color or feeling, it was just... absent. Even Anakin's omnipresent voice was gone.

He couldn't touch the Force.

_Space_, he couldn't touch-

Don't panic! He cursed at himself. Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic! Don't think about Rattatak and how that felt, don't flashback to those memories; _DON'T PANIC!_ Obi-Wan forced himself to breath, a slow deep breath. Accept this, accept the Force isn't there, won't answer your touch. Let go of the sense of isolation and loss of comfort and work through it and _do not panic_.

Obi-Wan took another deep breath, closing his eyes and holding it, counting to ten in a few languages and at last, let go. His rational mind, after those ten seconds of fear, finally kicked in and started working again. Somehow he'd been given a Force-inhibitor, and when his mind wrapped around that the fear finally fell away, he looked at his glass of water and knew immediately how he'd been infused. Of course the water tasted over-filtered, it was to block any taste of the inhibitor; and the sense of danger didn't have a direction because it was in his hand. He was no good this way.

He opened his comm to the rest of security. "Something has happened," he said in low, quick tones, "If something is going to occur at this event it will be soo-"

Pain shot through his shoulder and instinct kicked in after that. He made himself fall limp to the floor as screams filled the air of the function. His lightsaber was in his hand and ignited an instant later and he was on his feet.

The promenade had erupted in blaster fire; multiple shots from multiple directions; the Senators were sitting ducks against the onslaught. Obi-Wan was already shouting orders, both to CorSec and to the politicians: you that way, you this way, go over there, come here, flank left, _duck_! And so on. His shoulder _burned_ but he ignored the pain in favor of blocking all the blaster bolts he could see. Though he was without the Force, he was still a combat veteran and his blade-work's quick centralized movements needed no enhancement. He mentally made a note to thank himself later for switching Ataru to Soresu.

"Ahsoka!" he called out, knowing she was here somewhere.

"Master Obi-Wan!" she answered, appearing by his side. "My master's been screaming at me since you started to panic. Something about Force-inhibitors and no shields, are you okay?"

"I was _not_ panicking!" he shouted, hoping Anakin got a headache from his reprisal and glad he didn't have to feel the result. Oh, his mind was so _quiet_ now...

Shoving the thought aside he said, "The part about the inhibitors was true. I'm blind to the Force now. Watch my back while we block these snipers."

"Got it." The two danced around each other; Ahsoka's Djem So was startlingly like Anakin's and it gave Obi-Wan an added layer of security as he easily fell into step with the Togrutan Padawan. He tried not to favor his shoulder; the healers were going to yell at him again. The two covered the Senators as they retreated; some, like Padme, had taken blasters of their own and were firing back but most were running in terror, having never seen such violence personally. Obi-Wan cursed in disgust at the thought.

Slowly backing up, Ahsoka parallel to him, he continued to shout orders in the comm. "Most of the snipers seem to be on the rooftops! Concentrate your efforts on the northwest corner of the promenade and the east-southeast alleyway! We'll focus on getting the Senators out of here!" One glance at Ahsoka showed that she knew what to do, and broke off her defense to circle around so that the two could cover more ground and secure an exit.

Obi-Wan edged his back to a wall; without the Force he couldn't see the shots coming from behind and without another Jedi to cover him he needed to be creative. Padme came up beside him, blaster in hand. "Where do you need me?" she asked.

"Anakin would kill me if I let you get hurt," Obi-Wan offered in a dry tone. Even all the way on Corellia, he knew his partner was likely listening to everything going on. "But if you have a few moments, having three people secure an escape makes the work much easier. We're aiming for South Street." A blaster bolt came much too close and Obi-Wan's duck only worked by millimeters.

"Are you alright?" Padme asked, seeing his burning (and smoking, he realized with detached interest) shoulder and perhaps seeing something in his eyes.

"Under the circumstances," Obi-Wan said with another smile. "I rather think I'm doing quite well. If we're lucky they're only trying to kill us."

Padme smiled before leveling another shot with her blaster; her aim was impeccable, Obi-Wan noticed, and that one moment's inattention was enough. A blast connected with the Jedi master, in almost the exact same location, and his shoulder erupted in fire, enough for him to gasp and stagger back, enough for his head to fill with white noise as the pain superseded any thought he could generate, enough for him to fall backwards.

He lay there, staring at nothing, for time undetermined, before he could finally manage to think. He gasped at the agony in his shoulder; the healers were going to _kill_ him, and he fought with himself to accept the pain, thank his body for the warning that he was a nerf-herding idiot, and push it away to roll onto his side and get up. The world was spinning around him; he either must have lost a lot of blood or had hit his head - both were just _marvelous_ ideas that Obi-Wan decided did not need investigating. Fighting to get his bearings he swung his lightsaber about, testing his one-handed swings. His other arm was useless now.

The crowd had thinned, and the blaster fire was marginally less. Ahsoka was standing on an overturned table, her green lightsaber flicking back and forth in quick but powerful swings against the blaster fire, her face etched in concentration as she aimed her blocks back at her attackers. Padme was waving to Senators, beckoning them to the exit that they had secured. Several were cowering under tables or behind mutilated decorations, unable to quench their fear enough to get moving.

"Ahsoka!" Obi-Wan called out, swinging his good arm and blocking more blasts. "Get to the pinned Senators and push them to the escape!"

"Master Obi-Wan! Are you al-"

"_Now_ Ahsoka!"

The Togrutan Padawan made a face; she never liked retreat, but stopped blocking blasts and darted forward to the fist cluster of Senators. Obi-Wan could hear little over the blaster fire, but he could certainly see her shouting some heated and most likely pointed words to them. So much for not getting bad press, Obi-Wan thought wryly.

It was hard to concentrate through the pain, especially without the Force, but many - Anakin at the top of that list - would say that Obi-Wan was nothing if not a person with a strong will. He forced all the pain aside when he could, and when he couldn't he did it anyway. Muscle memory served him greatly; his body swept through the movements without any thought, leaving him to survey his surroundings to decide where best to move next. Padme had found a great position - to be expected because she wouldn't put her unborn child blatantly in danger, and Ahsoka blurred past her with no less than five Senators in tow, giving them an utterly indelicate Force push to keep them moving before darting back out into the promenade to rescue more.

What was _taking_ the CorSec so long to take the snipers down?

That one thought distracted him enough for a third blaster shot - again to his shoulder (were they doing this on _purpose_?) - followed quickly by the sound of an explosion, and Obi-Wan remembered very little after that.

* * *

"Obi-Wan?"

Ahsoka looked up from her spot next to Padme and Bail at the medipost. Bail had been skeptical when Ahsoka told her that her master would be coming immediately, but now it seemed moot as she snapped to her feet and dashed forward.

"Master!" she said, filled with relief.

"Snips," the tall Jedi said, his face black with worry. "Where is he? Is he alright?"

"He's in surgery now, Ani," Padme said quickly, stepping up to join the pair.

"Master," Ahsoka said, "I think..." she paused, looking around at everyone milling about the halls, the nurses and other Senators and patients. Bail-Senator Organa watched the dialogue with passive but intense focus, and suddenly Ahsoka was all too aware of how many people were here.

_Use the bond, Snips,_ Anakin offered, not quite soft because of his worry but lacking the edge that was prickling everywhere else around his presence.

Ahsoka closed her eyes and made herself remember what had happened, Master Obi-Wan's comment that he had been slipped a Force inhibitor, the damage to his shoulder from three blaster shots, and worked on her feeling that the attack on the Senators was... off, somehow. She couldn't put her finger on it except for those three very precise shots. In war even those with the best of aim couldn't shoot like that in melee unless it was deliberate, but CorSec said those that they had captured wouldn't be the type with that kind of discipline, and Ahsoka really didn't know where to take her line of thought after that.

"I understand, Ahsoka," Anakin said, his voice an octave lower than it normally was. He was crackling in energy, the Force around him potent and dangerous. Ahsoka found herself involuntarily shrinking back. "And you," he said, turning to Pad-Senator Amidala. "We are going to have an extended conversation about what you think is safe when you have..." his eyes darted down, perhaps to the floor, "expectations."

Ahsoka, confused, saw Senator Amidala's back straighten and her eyes harden. "Yes, Master Jedi," she said in shockingly cold tones, "I expect we are. In the meantime," she added, "Perhaps you should take a walk. I don't think Ahsoka is ready to see one of your tantrums yet."

"I _don't_-"

"Leave, Master Skywalker," Padme said in absolute authority. She put a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder. "Work through your emotions, or else you will make us unhappy."

Just like that, it was as if a switch was flipped, and all the pressure on Ahsoka's mind dissipated. Her master's shoulders slumped, and his head dipped down. "I'll go check on the medics," he said in dark tones, glaring but somehow also looking sorry at the same time. He stomped off and Ahsoka found herself releasing a breath. Turning, she saw that Padme had her eyes closed, a hand on her stomach as she took a breath of her own.

"How did you _do_ that?" the Padawan asked. "How is it that you and Master Obi-Wan can... can... _do_ that?"

Padme smiled softly, looking to Ahsoka. "Once you understand that he throws tantrums like a child, it's very easy. But don't tell him I said that," she added in a conspiratorial whisper. Her face became serious again. "Do you know why the function was attacked?" she whispered.

Ahsoka shook her head, forlorn. "No, but something about it feels off, and my Master seems to know, or at least better understand, what's happening."

Padme nodded. "I suspect he would. We should go back to waiting. He'll need to see calm faces when he gets back."

* * *

"They were trying to kill you."

Obi-Wan stared blearily at his former Padawan, longing for ye olden times when Anakin would jump onto his bed and hug him desperately, or get him breakfast from the apartments at unholy hours, or even just said, "Hi," when he awoke.

"That's not funny," Anakin growled.

"Well do forgive my irreverence when I'm lying on a healer's sleep-couch filled with Space knows what kind of drugs after being shot at," Obi-Wan retorted. This was hardly the time for Anakin's tantrums.

"It's _not_ a tantrum!" Anakin hissed, much too vehement for his normal tones. Obi-Wan processed - slowly - what Anakin had said before. He could dimly feel Anakin's roiling emotions: worry, concern, anger at someone, and no small amount a fear.

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan tried to reassure.

"_No you're not_," Anakin hissed again, glaring at his master. Only then did Obi-Wan look down and see the horrifyingly large amount of bandages and bacta patches that surrounded his shoulder and torso. He knew about the shoulder, but how...?

"After the third shot they blew up one of decorative columns. The shrapnel ripped into you because you didn't have the Force to protect you. They knew exactly how to get to you. It was all _about_ getting to you." Anakin looked down. "I wasn't there to stop it. You could have..."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, knowing too well what Anakin was thinking, even without the dim voice in the back of his head to tell him. "I didn't," he said softly. "I _didn't_. If you are right - and right now I'm entirely too drugged to form a rational opinion on that - then we know that Dooku's information was correct."

"But-!"

"Think about what he said in that first interview. He said, 'He has been known, on occasion, to try very, very hard to kill you.' _On occasion_, Anakin, on occasion. Whatever his priorities or plans are, the Sith isn't making _my_ destruction a priority. We have time to plan accordingly." He paused, taking a breath that hurt, and letting it out. Ah, to feel the Force again, it was small favors like this that made him grateful.

He felt Anakin's emotions shift. "How do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"See the bright side in everything? How can you feel grateful knowing that a Sith Lord wants you dead?"

Obi-Wan smiled slightly. "I suppose it's a matter of one's point of view."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Mwahahaha. We're sure you all remember back when Palpatine was pondering and told Dooku that Obi-Wan Kenobi had to die. Some of you thought that meant immediate action chapter. Well, here's an example of attempting to trap him. See, Obi-Wan's a) too stubborn to die b) too skilled to die c) too connected to Anakin to die d) etc, etc, etc. There have likely been several attempts from that previous chapter to this that have all been disguised as ambush or something that Obi-Wan still miraculously survives.

In some ways, this chapter feels very random, but it's necessary to show that Sidious is attempting to adjust his plans. He wants a turned Anakin and by the Force he's going to do his best to turn him. This will also be one of the last truly "drabble"ish chapters. (Frankly it's amazing that we don't qualify this as a fully chaptered story by this point...). Chapters will feel more and more connected from this point out.

Also, this diverges from canon quite significantly. As if arriving in Padme's fifth month of pregnancy and not her eighth wasn't enough of a difference. ^_~ This is totally independent of any of the movies and not related to anything in the EU (that we're aware of...)

Some of you have commented that Obi-Wan has too much control over Anakin. We would counter and say that Obi-Wan doesn't have control at all. He'll be extremely frustrated and annoyed with Anakin's many hare-brained stunts. But Obi-Wan is someone that Anakin knows and trusts and will listen to. Similarly, Obi-Wan has a far better understanding of Anakin's headspace and can push the right buttons as a result. Similarly, if Obi-Wan were ever to reach epic anger or anything like that, Anakin could talk him down in no time flat. It's just that Obi-Wan is usually calming Anakin, not the other way around. Anakin will still do what he thinks is right, but he has people he can trust for advice instead of trying to figure it out on his own and feeling that no one's in his corner.

Next week: Where Dreams Become Nightmares. (Gee, wonder what this chapter is about...)


	41. Where Dreams Become Nightmares

**Where Dreams Become Nightmares**

Anakin jerked awake with a start. He looked around in a panic, searching the darkness for any familiarity and not that cold isolated medical outpost. It was a _dream_, not reality, he was _home_. Not home at the Temple, though he could be "home" there whenever he was with Ahsoka or Obi-Wan, but _home_, with Padme, their child, and the promise of a bright future when this damnable war was over.

He reached down, rubbing his flesh fingers across his beloved wife's cheeks, emotion swirling so strongly in him it was a wonder he didn't burst. On instinct he closed his bond with Ahsoka. She wouldn't be able to deal with this. He would have to explain things to her and she wasn't ready. Better not to wake her.

Padme was _alive_.

Padme was _alive_ and he was going to make sure she _stayed_ that way.

_...'nakin..?_ was a sleepy call in the back of his head.

_It's nothing, Master. Go back to sleep._ Anakin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He reached for his robe and headed out so he could think and try and get a proper hold on everything that was swirling so violently inside of him.

_**Not a chance**_**, **Obi-Wan replied, more alert. _You only call me "Master" when you're upset or worried. You have this irritating habit of thinking you can just shoulder everything unless I start poking, prodding, and pulling teeth._

Anakin ignored him, sitting down to rub his face desperately. He couldn't _do_ this. Not now. Not when it was still so fresh. He had just seen Padme. Felt her breath, her heartbeat, her very life. She was _fine_. The baby was _fine_. Both were in peaceful slumber. He needed to get a grip, but everything was spinning out of control. He _had_ no control, not anymore. The Council wanted him to spy, the Chancellor wanted him to spy, both had the best of intentions but he was being pulled apart. Padme was a part of something and couldn't tell him despite her belief that he _needed_ to know and had dragged his Padawan into it. Everyone was pulling him in so many directions, intended or not, and it was just _hurting_.

And the very real possibility that the dream could become reality was not only going to hurt him, but break him. Split him into little pieces. Grind whatever was left of his soul and then shoot it out of a canon.

_Anakin? What happened?_

"Ani?" was another sleepy mumble, but this time not in his mind, but behind him.

"It's nothing, angel."

Padme stopped rubbing the sleep from her eyes and looked at him with her full attention. Gently, she came over, sat by his side, and hugged his arm. "Ani, you are a strong and noble man. One I am proud to call my husband and father of my child. But you have this irritating ability to think you have to do everything. I'm _here_ for you. It makes me happy to be able to share your worries and concerns as much as it makes you happy that I share mine with you."

A very tiny corner of his mind gave harsh voice to the fact that Padme _hadn't_ been sharing one particular worry with him. But Anakin viciously stomped that thought down and kicked it away.

"I... Everything's fine, Padme. You need your rest. Eight months along and hiding it takes a toll on you," he replied, laying a hand over her swelled belly.

Padme gave a flat gaze. "Don't go changing the subject."

They were interrupted by a comlink going off.

_Answer that, Anakin, or _you_ can explain to the healers why I had to sneak out of their care to have a proper discussion with you and your lovely wife._

"Fine," Anakin grumbled. With a wave of his hand, the comlink came to his hand and Obi-Wan's voice filtered across.

"_Thank you, Anakin. Milady Padme, I thank you for not putting up with my former Padawan's stubborn belief that he must do everything_."

"Master Obi-Wan," she greeted. "I take it whatever is bugging my dear husband has awoken you as well."

"_Yes, indeed_."

"I _am_ here, you two," Anakin pouted. Sighing, he looked aside. "It was just a dream."

From Padme, Anakin felt steady concern, but no worry. Oh no. Worry was coming across very strongly from his brother-turned-father.

"_Anakin_," Obi-Wan said in a strained voice over the comlink. "_Show me that dream_. Now."

"What-?" Padme started to ask, but Anakin had already closed his eyes, removing the filters to better show the horrible, horrid, terrible nightmare that had set his heart ablaze with fear and worry.

_Ahsoka, far away, isolated and crouching in great pain as something from inside tears her apart._

_ Obi-Wan, betrayed, devastated, holding back tears while saying "Hold on!" desperately._

_ Padme, crying out for Anakin, in labor and pain and with a heavy soul, slowly passing on._

_ Himself, no where to be found as his beloved wife dies crying for him to be there._

Obi-Wan let out a harsh breath across the comlink.

"_How much have you told your wife about your ability to dream?_"

"I know of his nightmares with his mother," Padme replied, squeezing his arm. She turned to him. "Did you just have a dream like with your mother?"

Anakin said nothing, only nodding. The dream was still to fresh in his mind. Too many thoughts were firing back and forth. What had happened to Ahsoka? Why was she so alone? What was she feeling that had hurt her so much? Why was Obi-Wan so devastated? Where had that feeling of betrayal come from? And why, _why_ wasn't he there for Padme? The images were flashing across his mind again and he couldn't help the tears that were starting to come to his eyes.

"That dream will _not_ happen. I _swear_ it."

"Ani? _What_ did you see?"

_Tell her, Anakin. If she is to be cautious and watchful, she must know_.

But Anakin didn't want to be told what to do at that moment. He had made his vow and he would keep it. He didn't need help. Everything else was such a complicated mess, he couldn't ask for any help. He needed to do it on his own.

Yet a small part of him _wanted_ to be told what to do. To go back to being a youngling and letting the adults take care of the problems. To have that guidance and carefree abandon of youth so that he could just _stop_ worrying about _everything_ and take a breather.

Anakin shook his head. He was about to be a _father_. Or, he hoped he would be, since the dream didn't give any clue about the fate of his own youngling. He needed to be strong for that youngling. He was the adult now. And his mother never pushed off responsibilities, even when things were at their darkest under the Hutts. Obi-Wan never pushed off his responsibilities, even when he didn't have to worry about anything and could take a break. Padme never pushed off her responsibilities.

So he wouldn't either.

"_All three of us_," Obi-Wan said quietly across the comlink, "_your mother, myself, and Padme, have all asked for help when we needed it. We are here for you Anakin. You want us safe, and we love you for it. But we are here to help as well_."

Padme nodded, her head resting on his shoulder. "I've said this before. You're not all-powerful. Perhaps I should amend that, given what I've heard about what you can do. You're not all-powerful. But when you have your friends and family to support you, you can come pretty close."

Anakin couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped his lips as Obi-Wan groaned.

"_Milady, you've now made him impossible to work with._"

The laugh was a needed break and Anakin leaned back into the cushions of the couch. He ran his mechanical fingers through his sweaty hair. "It was likely a vision," he said. "I saw... Padme you'll die in childbirth."

His wife went very still.

"The baby?"

"Don't know."

Obi-Wan firmly said, "_Always in motion, the future is_." Along the bond, wave after wave of love and affection swirled around Anakin's battered and scared heart from both his wife and brother-turned-father. "_I'll start looking into the archives about dreams. I've done this before, but we've already seen that we can change the outcome of your visions_."

"Plus," Padme ran her hands along his arm, "I'm here on Coruscant. People don't just die in childbirth here. My pregnancy hasn't been high-risk at all."

"I know, I know," Anakin replied, running through the frightening images of his vision again. "But _why_ wasn't I there? Do I die? Is that why Ahsoka is hurting and you're devastated, Master? Is that why I can't come when Padme calls for me?"

"_No_!" Padme hissed. "You will _not_ die on me!"

"_I can't say for sure, Anakin. We can only work with what you saw. We must take whatever precautions we can. This will be difficult for you, but trust that we will do everything we can. And if something terrible does happen, we _will_ be here for you._"

"But if I die, who will be there for all of _you_?"

"We'll all be here for each other," Padme replied fiercely. "We're all a family. And that's just what families do."

A darker part of Anakin that was so very angry with all the directions he was being pulled in and not liking one bit that there was something _new_ to worry about, flared. "Some family," he growled. "I'm spying for both sides of what's supposed to be the _same_ side, you're involved in _something_ you can't talk about, my Padawan doesn't even _know_ half the stuff we've been doing. _How_ do you propose to be there for each other with the way things are?"

"Ani..."

He sighed. "Sorry, angel." Ever since he realized the darkness inside of him, it had been a struggle to release it. And there were times it still reared its head like a dragon furnace. He _knew_ the only way to really deal with it was to deal with his fear of being alone, but there was always something else to do. And this dream _certainly_ wasn't helping in his attempts to control and face that fear.

Obi-Wan reached through the bond and channeled some of his turbulent feelings out to the Force with the ease of one who had done this many times before.

"Thanks, Obi-Wan," he muttered. _Someday I won't have to have you do this for me all the time._

_I help in any way I can. You... mean too much to me for me to _not_ help. You are my brother._

Obi-Wan was never one to speak so openly about such feelings, though they always came across the bond so clearly. To actually hear Obi-Wan say it, even indirectly, warmed Anakin greatly.

"_Milady, you need to start seeing your doctor more regularly._"

Padme nodded. "I have an appointment in about two weeks-"

"I think weekly would be more appropriate," Anakin said. "We don't know _what_ but _something_ big is going to happen. And soon." He rubbed her stomach, amazed that their child stayed asleep during all this serious talk. "We know it'll be before you give birth, so we have around a month. Assuming stress doesn't make you premature. So I'd like it if you could manage it weekly."

Padme winced. "The Senate will notice, but I understand your concerns. I'll see what I can do. I'll have Threepio start clearing some of my schedules in the morning."

And just like that, a great weight lifted off of Anakin's chest as his love for her swelled. She had been squeezing his arm and he decided that just wouldn't do. He pulled her to his lap and gave a strong hug. "Love you," he muttered in her ear.

"Love you more," she mumbled back playfully.

"Obi-Wan? I'm being pulled in too many directions. Can you keep an eye on Ahsoka for me at the Temple?"

"_Of course,_" Obi-Wan replied. There was hesitation, but quietly, he added, _And if anything happens to you, she will become my Padawan._

_That_ brought tears to Anakin's eyes. He _knew_ how much Obi-Wan had hurt after Qui-Gon had died. He _knew_ that Obi-Wan hadn't been ready to take on a Padawan and all the confusion and grief that had swirled around him as he tried to teach a new life that was needy, clingy, and woefully unprepared for some of the difficult sacrifices a Jedi made. The bond had left nothing hidden, and he knew that it would be beyond painful for Obi-Wan to take a Padawan if Anakin died, especially Ahsoka. But he offered anyway.

_I couldn't leave her in better hands_, he replied quietly.

"Ani?" Padme sat back, a hand coming up to his cheek and a finger ran along his scar. "You're looking out for me, you're looking out for Ahsoka. Keep an eye out for yourself, alright?" she turned to the comlink. "Can you two drop some of these filters you've mentioned? So that you two can at least send aide to the other if its necessary?"

Anakin shrugged. "If Obi-Wan doesn't mind me offering two-bit commentary on his dull life."

Obi-Wan scoffed across the comlink. "_And if Anakin doesn't mind my... ah, seeing a few more things when two certain people are together?_"

Padme blushed. "I'm too fat for anything to happen," she grumbled.

Anakin, used to this after actually being able to spend _time_ on Coruscant for a change, was well prepared to kiss her thoroughly, leaving her gasping for breath. He closed his filters and very deliberately kissed her again, this time with a bit more passion as his fingers massaged certain points that made her melt deeper into his arms.

"_Ahem? I can still _hear_ you. Might you two lovebirds wait until we've settled things?_"

"Things are settled," Anakin shot back. "I'll open more filters in the morning. Good _night_, Obi-Wan."

"_Good night, my apparently amorous old Padawan_."

Padme grasped the comlink, shut it off, and threw it across the room as she pulled off his robe.

Anakin let her love fill him. Even through the filters, Obi-Wan was sending support and affection. And surrounded by all this love, he could forget his nightmare. At least till morning.

But now, at least, they had a plan.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Anakin is always very sweet with Padme, but sometimes he turns to us and just _demands_ to be naughty. And whenever we try to reign him in, Padme just gets naughtier.

So, um, yeah, that was just a _little_ different than canon. And hopefully, by this point, believable with all the small changes that have lead up to this. Anakin is still going to be tempted by the Darkside. We both feel he needs to be in order to face his fears and such and Anakin is such a powerful character that he'll probably be fighting dark tendencies for his entire life. Anakin falls into a trap that a lot of heroes do, and he thinks he has to do everything himself when in reality, if he just takes a breath and asks for help, life would be so much easier for him.

Many movies have a glorious hero that just bears the burden of everything and that makes him cool. Reality doesn't work that way. If you try and do everything yourself, you'll break apart. You need a support network and people who can help. Anakin didn't allow himself that in Episode III beyond Palpatine, but here, he _does_. Granted, Padme and Obi-Wan both have to smack him to make him see he needs help, but he _listens_. This makes things turn out better for him. Or so we hope at this point.

And things are _really_ going to start changing soon, as if all this wasn't enough. ^_^

Next week: Ahsoka absorbs a bombshell of sorts...


	42. Where Secrets are Shared

**Where Secrets are Shared**

Padme took a calming breath, putting a hand over her round stomach. The previous week, Anakin had started having horrible nightmares that would not only wake himself up, but herself and, she later learned, Obi-Wan. The pressure of his situation and the possible-future were pulling him apart at the seams and she was worried.

Enough was enough.

So she decided to do something about it. It was time to take some of the stress _out_ of his life. And her life for that matter.

So she looked out to the dining room where her dear husband, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were sitting and laughing. Little did they know what she really had on the menu for tonight.

"My lady, I don't see why I should shut down now," Threepio said, making Padme glance back. "I have served these dinners of yours for some time now. I am quite capable of-"

"Thank you, Threepio," she said, putting a hand on his golden shoulder. "But I have things I need to discuss that must remain private. Please, power down. If I can, I'll discuss details with you in the morning."

The protocol droid gave a stiff bow. "As you wish, Miss Padme."

One less headache, at least for this evening. So another calming breathe and she picked up a tray with a roasted fowl stuffed with a meat-filling Ahsoka enjoyed. She stepped into the dining room and everyone turned with smiles. Anakin was already getting up to take the tray for her, no doubt thinking something about her "delicate" condition. She so loved his thoughtfulness. And his stubborn streak, even though that could be highly irritating.

"So," Ahsoka said lightly, sniffing the delicious meal, "what's the currency for tonight's meal?"

"Something different," Padme replied seriously, taking her seat by her husband. "Tonight's currency is secrets."

Silence fell.

She took another deep breath. One hand went to her stomach the other reached out and held Anakin's hand.

"For various reasons, we've all been keeping things from each other. Most of it has been the result of positions we've been placed in without any say. Promises made without being able to back out, or responsibilities that pull us in different directions." She turned and looked at her husband. "We've talked about when to share things. But I don't think we have the luxury of waiting for an opportune time any more." Because Ahsoka, more than anyone at this table, had been left in the dark. The reasoning had been sound, but she would have to trust that Anakin's lessons had prepared her enough.

Her husband was resisting. He'd held onto these secrets for so long, he would be hard-pressed to let go. But letting go was what he _needed_ right now. And she would do whatever it took to make things easier for her dear, dear Ani.

"Ahsoka, Anakin, Obi-Wan. I'll go first."

With a deep breath, she related everything she had been doing with Bail, Mon, and the rest of the Senators who didn't like all the power that Chancellor Palpatine had. The slow quiet moves they had been making to talk to other Senators and get a petition going to guarantee Palpatine let go of his power when this horrible war was over. Of how she had been vowed to silence before she understood what that would really entail. Of how she tried to get them to seek a Jedi's thoughts and the disappointingly negative views of the Jedi that they had. Of her compromise to bring in a Padawan, Ahsoka, who was not only apprenticed to a Council member, but was often with other Council members because of Anakin's tendency to be sent into difficult missions.

"I'm sorry," she said, her head lowered. "It wasn't right for me to keep this from any of you. I've always believed that as a politician, my duty to the people was to stick by my word. If I wasn't honest, how could the people trust me to do what was right? But this... this has hurt all of you. And," she squeezed Anakin's hand. "I believe that you _should_ know about this. I have people's trust to do what is right. So I must do what I think is right. I think it's right to start opposing Palpatine because I don't agree with a lot of what he's doing. But I also think it's right for the three of you to know."

Padme looked up, tears in her eyes that she wiped away. _Stupid hormones_. "You're all a part of my family. You _deserve_ more than what I've been doing."

Ahsoka looked around, wide-eyed. "I've been... does this count as leaking information? But I never talked about plans or anything..."

Padme reached out and held the young Togrutan's hand. "No, you haven't done anything wrong," she reassured her. "You've only been sharing a Jedi's view of things. Something that even the Council members would likely say; if asked."

"You were using me?" she asked, looking down.

"No, Snips, she wasn't," her husband said. "I told you that this was a lesson in politics, even if I didn't know the details of it. I trusted Padme with you because Padme is trustworthy." He glanced at her. "She was put in a bad place and did the best she could to hold true to herself, her ideals, and all of us. She chose to tell you because she trusts you."

Ahsoka looked around, before closing her eyes. Anakin did as well, and Padme glanced at Obi-Wan in askance.

"They're talking along the bond," he supplied. "She needs a lot of reassurance and it's easier to feel things more directly, than through words." The Jedi master sat back. "She'll be needing a lot of that before this night is over."

"It's necessary," she stated.

Obi-Wan tugged at his beard. "At this point, I agree. Especially for Anakin. With all the stress he's under, especially with the assignment he's been working on, it's a wonder he hasn't snapped."

"Assignment?" she asked. "He's been busy with the Council."

Obi-Wan nodded. "That's part of the stress. I'll explain in a moment."

When Anakin and Ahsoka finally opened their eyes, the young Padawan was teary eyed when she turned to Padme. "Senator... May I..." she looked down, still clutching Padme's hand. "May I look into your mind about this? Master Anakin said you'd be okay with it."

"Of course," Padme smiled. "Anything you need." Padme closed her eyes and waited, focusing on her memories of that meeting and her confused and torn feelings on what she'd been doing. She thought of her glowing pride in Ahsoka as the girl "reported" her findings and how astute she was and of her profound gratitude as more stubborn Senators like Mon Mothma were starting to change their opinion of the Jedi as they spoke with the young Padawan.

"She's all done," Anakin whispered and Padme opened her eyes. Ahsoka was looking down but then she stood and came over to encircle Padme in a hug that could rival her husband.

_He's been teaching her about hugs_, she mused about her dear husband.

"Of course," he replied. "My mother's wisdom knows no bounds."

"I believe I'll share next," Obi-Wan said as Ahsoka sat down. "This one, Ahsoka, won't be quite so painful to hear. Anakin has been given an assignment by the Council and he's been given an assignment by the Chancellor that has put him in a difficult position."

Ahsoka nodded, knowing that often assignments weren't general knowledge.

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, with a small glare, but Obi-Wan stared right back.

"You _need_ this, Anakin," he said quietly, reaching over and placing a hand on her husband's shoulder. "You've been under far too much strain. I trust you've taught Ahsoka well and that she can handle all the information that will be shared this evening."

Anakin sighed. "I _know_ that," he hissed. "But-"

"But nothing," Obi-Wan said quietly, yet firmly. "You've been holding far too much in. Yes, you're going to give up some control by letting all of us know everything, the same way I am. But by letting go, I believe we'll have more _options_. And you _need_ to get some of this out or you're going to implode."

Padme took a moment to focus on the conversation the three of them had had that first night of nightmares. Of how Anakin wasn't all-powerful, but he could do even more with the support of his friends and family.

Anakin relented. "Fine. But I'll drop the big bombshell for her."

"Very well," Obi-Wan replied. Turning to Padme and Ahsoka, he started to explain about the Jedi suspicions of the Sith, the tunnel that led to 500 Republica, (Padme gasped) and that a Sith was likely part of Palpatine's circle. How Palpatine's appointment of Anakin on the Council gave a chance for them to sniff out the Sith by Anakin giving a false impression of the Council to Palpatine. That the Council actually didn't know that Anakin knew he was giving false impressions. That Anakin didn't like lying to the Chancellor. How the Chancellor had lost so much faith in the Jedi, he'd heard and thought possible rumors that the Jedi were plotting to overthrow the Republic (Ahsoka slammed her hands on the table shouting denials) and had asked Anakin to spy on the Council for him.

"So we have my old Padawan playing double agent with two groups that are on the same side but no longer trust each other, and now we learn that Padme is part of a resistance against the Chancellor, one of Anakin's oldest friends." Obi-Wan sat back again, looking far older than he should. "Stars above, Anakin. No wonder you've been strung out."

"And so long as we're dropping bombshells," Ani added, staring straight at his Padawan and utterly ignoring the implications of the position he was in, "There's one more you need to know Ahsoka: Padme's pregnant."

A long silence stretched out before them; Padme looking back and forth between the three Jedi. Obi-Wan was holding his head in his hand, a clear indication of his opinion of Anakin's lack of subtlety. Anakin blatantly ignored him, staring intently at Ahsoka and waiting for her to figure it out. Ahsoka herself was wide eyed as she absorbed the information, looking slowly at Padme and Anakin, sitting next to each other at the table as they always did, looking at Padme's suspiciously absent hand, holding Anakin's as it was under the table and out of sight.

When it finally hit her, Padme noted, Ahsoka decided that rolling her eyes wasn't a strong enough reaction. Her entire head rolled along with her eyes, and she slammed her hands face down on the table. "_Master!_" she shrieked. Padme watched the Togrutan's face twist in hurt and she felt more than a little guilty that Anakin had decided to induct her on their great secret in such a way. Obi-Wan's low moan showed his agreement.

"You're a _Jedi_!" she continued in an even higher pitch, and Padme and Obi-Wan both held their head in their hands. Confronting her beloved Ani was never a good idea.

"So?" Anakin demanded, immediately irate as he dug his heels in and prepared for a battle.

"You're not supposed to _do_ stuff like this!"

"Did you ever listen to anything I ever taught you?" Ani shouted back. "About love and bonds and connection?"

"But Jedi are forbidden to get married! You _are_ married right? You didn't just randomly decide to jack her-"

"How dare you even _think_ I would do that Snips?"

"Because you're so _impulsive_!" Ahsoka shouted right back, standing up so abruptly the chair moaned as it was shoved back. "You always rush off to do whatever you think is right and damn anybody else's opinion!"

Padme and Obi-Wan both coughed. Padme was suddenly thinking about that one night she witnessed a fight between her Ani and Obi-Wan. This was just as awkward as then, and she wanted to interrupt somehow, to take a page from Obi-Wan's book and negotiate a truce, but she couldn't get a word in edgewise. She looked helplessly to her husband's former master and he minutely shook his head. They had to wait. Padme hated waiting.

"You weren't there, you don't know what happened; you didn't even _know_ me; what makes you think you had a say in it?"

"Oh, so I'm just another _youngling_?" Ahsoka shouted, slamming a fist on the table. "Another little stupid Initiate that's too stupid to know what's going on around her and has to have everything kept from her? I'm your _Padawan!_ I'm supposed to know _everything_ about you! I'm supposed to be by your side through thick and thin, I've saved your life in battle, I've fought next to you, I've looked after you, and it all means _nothing_? Master Obi-Wan and Senator Padme can know everything about you but _I can't_? Am I really so _unimportant?_"

Padme saw Anakin open his mouth in rage, and she knew that whatever came out of his mouth would be hurtful to everyone involved. A glance at Obi-Wan was all she had time to give and she mustered all her strength to elbow him hard in his arm. His eyes spun wildly to her, but Obi-Wan took his chance and cut in:

"I have a question, Ahsoka," he said in calm, level, but unyieldingly firm tones. "Has my former Padawan taught you any lessons about controlling anger?"

It was like a knife cutting through their dinner. One difference between Ani and his Padawan was that: when a fault or problem was pointed out, Anakin would immediately be defensive; Ahsoka by contrast would stop and reflect. Where Anakin would deny, Ahsoka would grudgingly admit; and as she replayed the last several minutes in her head, the energy seeped out of her. She finally collapsed back into her seat, elbows falling to her knees and she simply looked down, dejected and hurt. Padme reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, but she shied away, too hurt for comfort.

"I see," Obi-Wan said, his gaze hard on Ani though he spoke to Ahsoka. "I'd recommend asking him to be more forthcoming; anger usually is an energy-induced reaction to fear, am I right, Anakin?"

The two said nothing after that, and Padme knew they had taken their fight to the bond. Padme sighed, taking her drink and taking a decidedly large sip. "I'm never choosing this currency again," she muttered, rubbing her forehead. "I wanted to relieve stress, not cause more of it. I'm sorry, Ahsoka; I feel I've hurt you the most."

The Padawan looked up, a glance before her eyes flicked back down. "I thought I was learning so much," she said softly. "I thought I _knew_ him, but he's been _lying_ to me about _so much_."

Padme nodded, understanding. "My Ani is a complicated man," she said gently. "He's very open in some ways; he wears his heart on his sleeve and he believes in things from the bottom of his heart. But he has a very bad habit of clutching things very close to him, from people to secrets. We'd always agreed to tell you, Ahsoka, after the war when the time was right." She rubbed at her child, feeling him or her starting to kick. "But I get the feeling we're running out of time."

"I won't let it happen," Anakin said in a flat, dark voice, even though he continued his mental debate with Obi-Wan.

Ahsoka looked up, a frown on her face. "Let what...?"

"You've had visions before," Padme said softly, reaching out but not touching Ahsoka, giving her the choice. The Padawan didn't take it but she didn't reject it either. "You saved me from that bounty hunter, Aura Sing, because you had a vision. Ani has them too. He had a dream last week that was very bad; all three of us were in it."

Ahsoka looked up again, her face colored with surprise. "Me, too?" she asked in a small voice.

Padme smiled warmly. "Of course, Ahsoka. You're part of the family."

The Togrutan smiled; a small, tentative smile, and she reached out to take Padme's hand. "Thank you," she said softly.

Obi-Wan moaned slightly. "No, Anakin, bad idea."

The two girls looked to the two men. They were staring at each other intently, their wills probably crackling brightly for all that Padme knew; but she didn't need to be Force-sensitive to feel the tension between the two. This fight had brought up Ani's core problem, loneliness, and he was always at his worst when it was brought up so unexpectedly. Padme loved her Ani but sometimes he was just so temperamental.

"Don't you start with me, Padme," Anakin said, not breaking his glare at Obi-Wan.

There were times Padme really wished she had her privacy in her head. Sighing, she took a breath and reordered her priorities: 1) Calm down her beloved but currently irritating husband. 2) Reassure her beloved but currently irritating husband and his hurt little Padawan both that they were loved and important. 3) Sort through the political mess that they had uncovered with all the secrets they just divulged to each other. 4) Find a way to help her beloved but currently irritating husband with the impossible position he was in. 5) More reassurance that he was loved. 6) Maybe, oh, she didn't know, play some music for the baby and relax it? The kicking was starting to hurt and she was certain it was a reaction to the stress she was feeling.

_That_ little thought snapped Anakin to full attention. "The baby's kicking?" he asked, breaking off whatever he was glaring about to turn and face her fully. "Is it okay? Are you okay? You're not..." his voice trailed off, and Padme knew he was thinking about the dream.

"I'm fine," she said softly, taking his hand with her free one and placing it on her stomach. "See? Everything's fine."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, forgetting everything else. "I'm sorry. Sh, it's okay little one; settle down for Mommy, okay?"

Across the table, Padme saw Obi-Wan give a long suffering sigh. "I will never understand how he can turn his emotions on and off on a credit like that," he muttered, rubbing his forehead and then his beard. Padme offered him a reassuring smile.

For the next twenty minutes they all focused on the baby; Anakin cooing and singing softly while Ahsoka rubbed her belly repeatedly. Obi-Wan sat off to the side, enjoying the show but opting not to take part. Padme offered him to join once or twice, but ultimately he didn't feel comfortable.

When she finally looked at the clock she realized they were well into the next day; and _still_ there was so much to discuss. They had moved to the main room, she and her husband on one couch with Ahsoka kneeling next to them. Obi-Wan was on the opposite couch, watching from a distance. "Anakin," he said gently, "Perhaps it's time to meditate."

"Mm," he said, half listening. He gave a long, lingering kiss to Padme - to Ahsoka's embarrassing shock, before tapping her on her montrals. "Alright, Snips; I think it's past time I showed you how Obi-Wan and I meditate. Your shields _should_ be strong enough to handle it. If not, well, we'll see what happens."

"... And what does _that_ mean," Ahsoka asked in a trite but soft tone. They stood and Ani lead them to the balcony.

It left Obi-Wan and Padme alone.

"Well, this is a beautiful mess, isn't it?" Obi-Wan said by way of introduction.

"My Ani certainly knows how to pick them." She paused. "You know you can touch the baby," she said.

Obi-Wan shook his head, a soft and perhaps sad smile on his face. "It's not my place," he answered. "I know nothing at all about babies and infants until they come to the Temple, and there they are trained as Jedi and not treated as proper younglings." He paused, his gaze far away, looking at something no one else could see. "Attachment... the policy is so clear..." his voice trailed off.

Padme was very quiet, realizing perhaps for the first time that Obi-Wan never saw Padme outside of work or coming with Anakin for dinner. If her husband was off planet and he wasn't, he never dropped by for dinner; and he never talked about himself if he could help it - dinner currency aside, and even then she realized it was always a story about Anakin in some way, never about himself personally. Anakin had more than once scorned the Jedi teachings on attachment, that it was forbidden for fear of attachment turning a Jedi to the Darkside; her husband spat at the very idea. It occurred to her that his very participation in their dinners, being in the presence of such strong attachment and seeing it's love and light and happiness, might sometimes be painful for him who never had it as a child himself, or that he protected himself as he could by keeping at a safe distance. She suddenly wondered if Obi-Wan was questioning the Jedi code for attachment, and the insight made her decidedly uncomfortable.

"Well," Obi-Wan said lightly, deliberately closing the unopened topic, "I'd say the first thing we need to do is somehow let Bail and the others have much more open access to the Jedi. Might you suggest inducting young Ahsoka into your organization; a Jedi consultant perhaps?"

Padme frowned, thinking about it. "I think most of them would agree, but we need a unanimous vote to include someone new."

Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his beard. He looked older then, tired and exhausted. Padme was, too. She lifted her swollen feet up, glaring at the appendages. "Perhaps if I made an overture; I don't want to inform the Council of this until your committee is comfortable with it if I can help it. If there are two organizations, yours and ours, that want to effect change, then we may be able to get Palpatine out from under the Sith's thumb and thereby draw him out."

"I agree," Padme said. "Maybe you can talk to Bail, tell him independently about the Sith."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Not even the entire Council knows about the Sith being in the Supreme Chancellor's circle. Technically, Anakin wasn't to know either, and the Council doesn't even know _that_. The sheer number of secrets about is nauseating."

"Then perhaps it's time we came out all at once, like we did tonight," Padme suggested, rubbing comforting circles round her child. "Get the Council and the key members together and tell them everything. I doubt any of them will react as badly as Ani did."

The Jedi master gave a wry grin but ultimately frowned. "But how can we slip Palpatine into that little meeting?" Obi-Wan countered, "Or should we even try? We can't have an all-points dump because, ultimately, we don't know who or where the Sith is. The result could be catastrophic; but the more we gather in secret the more Palpatine has a right to think he's being plotted against. In point of fact, we are, if only because we can't trust how safe his ears are."

"Then let's just settle for what we can do. I'll talk to the others about Ahsoka. She'll be the link between us."

"And Anakin?"

Yes. Anakin. There was the rub.

"He knows everything now," she sighed. "That should help a little."

"And it puts even more pressure on him. Now he has a clearer view of just how deep these waters run."

"Oh, to be young and ignorant," Padme moaned, rubbing her forehead. "I wonder what it was ever like."

Obi-Wan shrugged his shoulders. "I worry. He's in a bad situation; anyone would be, but it's worse for Anakin. Not only does he have a poor disposition for undercover work like this, he has to lie to someone he has utmost respect for: Palpatine." He sighed and rubbed his beard again. "I'm beginning to wonder if his policies are even his; if the Sith is influencing him to a degree necessary to make these dictatorial decisions. That bodes ill for the Supreme Chancellor overall. I'd rather he leave the political arena entirely, for his safety as well as Anakin's piece of mind."

Padme suddenly perked. "Of course!" she said. "That would be perfect!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Palpatine!" she said, the excitement filling her with adrenaline and waking her up. "I think I know a way to remove him for office: retirement!"

Obi-Wan blinked, the information sinking in slowly. When he straightened suddenly, Padme knew he understood. Her predecessor was now over sixty years old. He'd been Supreme Chancellor for almost fifteen years, long past the maximum turn of office. It was common knowledge for anyone of any political clout that the job was stressful to the extreme - especially in a time of war. She couldn't even imagine the amount of health concerns he had; even with close monitoring, proper diet, and exercise, the job would simply wear him out in time; it may even have been how the Sith Lord was able to manipulate him. No one could possibly blame him if he retired, and it would allow him to be removed from the Sith's control or - at the very least - be able to place him under better protection. Similarly, it would force the Sith to make a move, he would have to pick a replacement and that might expose him enough for the Jedi to do something. It also relieved the stress on her beloved Ani since he would no longer have to worry about his esteemed mentor.

"That's an excellent idea, one I think I should suggest to the Council."

Padme smiled, and she found pride welling up inside of her. She blinked, tilting her head. "Did Ani just send me pride?" she asked.

"Yes, did you feel it?"

"I think so. Is that normal?"

Obi-Wan offered a large grin. "With my errant former Padawan one quickly realizes that 'normal' is simply a point of reference."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Meh. This is a bloody important chapter and it falls really flat. After almost two weeks of BOTH of us working on it it's just boring. Even making Anakin fight with Ahsoka couldn't inject any feeling into it. You'd think, given what happens, it would be downright epic. (sighs)

At any rate, we hope by this point the radical right turn of everyone sharing their secrets with everyone else is believable and acceptable. If nothing else, we feel it's absolutely necessary if these guys (re: Anakin) are going to come out remotely sane. It also adds another layer to the political conspiracy - which frankly is complicated enough for us to have trouble with it to begin with. You can only guess how future chapters are going to be whined about when we throw Dooku back into the mix and watch all the sparks as they're being lit.

Anyway, as always, let us know what you think.

Poor Ahsoka. This was a lot to dump on her all at once.

Here's hoping we'll be online next week. Much like Hurricane Irene forecasted massive power outages in our state (with some areas being out for well over a week), this snow storm is also forecasting lots of power outages since not all the leaves have come down here in New England. Wish us luck.

Next week: Dooku smirks and Anakin visits an opera...


	43. Where Revolution Begins

**Where Revolution Begins**

After months of capture, Dooku decided that he had learned enough. To be clear, it wasn't _enough_, it wasn't the stream of information he had as the political leader of a new confederation of systems and grand general of a droid army; nor was it even close to the paltry information he was accustomed to as a Jedi; but he had "enough."

Enough to know that after years of being away the Jedi had not changed a bit - and that included protocol on how prisoners were treated. He may not have known which cell he was in exactly, but he knew what level, what location, the quickest routes out, the least used lifts; he knew all of it. He had no particular plans for escape, of course, but it gave his mind an exercise to play with. He knew that Sidious had miraculously placed Skywalker on the High Council. He knew that the Council was trying to lure Sidious out but to no affect.

From this, he had gleaned even more information. Sidious was waiting; waiting for Kenobi to die, waiting for Skywalker to turn so that he could fulfill his vision. The Council could ill afford to wait; Sidious' plans for the war had worked marvelously, the Jedi were thin and ready to break at a moment's notice, and so they were doing everything in their power to lure Sidious out, having no true idea what they were dealing with and yet taking the gamble anyway. Fools.

It was a stalemate. It all hinged on Skywalker turning, everything would fall into place once that happened, and yet it was not happening. Kenobi was preventing it though he was utterly clueless that he had become such a pivotal piece. After many weeks of meditation on what to do, Dooku realized - much to his consternation, that there were two things he simply did not want to see. He did not want to see the remarkable Kenboi die; his connection to Qui-Gon was too vivid and too important to him, whatever his feelings to Kenobi personally were. Secondly, he could not see Sidious' plans come to fruition without Dooku's interference. That meant, ultimately, that any thoughts he had of turning the whelp Skywalker were counterproductive.

Instead, he had to force Sidious' hand and watch the chaos unravel itself. In some ways that was beneficial; it showed that he had "switched sides" and furthered his own plans to kill Sidious and take over his position.

For this particular interview, Windu and Yoda were there, of course, and Plo Koon - reticent often in meetings but prone to black-and-white views of things; Dooku always liked him. There was also a Togrutan Councilor, Shaak Ti; Dooku remembered her as a very young Padawan with a gift for Form II. He had assessed them for several hours over the course of the interview, but ultimately decided that who was there was irrelevant.

"I think the time has perhaps come for me to reveal something important," he said, sweeping his arm to one side in a grand gesture. The effect was lost without a hand - the Jedi were not comfortable giving him prosthetics, but he refused to stop being anything less than impeccable even if his body was no longer perfect.

"And what would that be?" Windu asked, dark eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Why, the identity of the Sith Lord, of course," Dooku said with utter gentility; taking a moment to absorb their shock, then their disbelief, then their speculation.

"And what do you want in exchange?" Yoda asked with narrow eyes.

"Ah, therein lies the rub, don't you agree?" Dooku asked pleasantly. "I can give you the information you need to finally lure my former master out from hiding, but what price are you going to pay to see it carried out? There is also the consideration of myself," he added. "After all, I am going to betray one former master of another; the question quickly becomes whom I loathed the least: you for your betrayal of the very Order you think you're upholding, or he for trying to see me replaced?

"Suppose this, then," he said, sneering and watching Mace - for all his tightly covered façade - twitch in irritation and impatience. "What if I betray neither? What if, instead, I give you a hint towards the Sith's identity and, then, if you cannot guess his identity, I reveal his name because you were too stupid to figure it out? How does that sound?"

Silence hung in the room.

"Very well," Dooku said. "You have already surmised that the Sith is in the Supreme Chancellor's inner circle. This is correct. What you haven't realized is that the Sith is much closer to Palpatine than you could even imagine; and you have yet to even suspect him."

The four stared at him, in Windu's case impatiently waiting for more, but Dooku decided that was all they needed.

"If you cannot figure it out by the end of the week; then by all means return. Though, I would suggest those two: Skywalker and Kenobi, for consultation. They are very entertaining in that respect." He leaned back in his chair. "I look forward to seeing you soon."

* * *

Anakin was irritated. More than irritated. He loved and respected Palpatine dearly, but there were times when he was forced to remember that the man had led a life of privilege. Why else would he invite Anakin to a meeting at _the opera_ of all places? On what planet did an _opera_ sound like a good place to have a business meeting? It stank of ulterior motives and secret agendas and, at the end of the day, Anakin didn't really want to think that one of his beloved mentors was capable of that.

Then he remembered that he, Obi-Wan, and Padme were having backdoor meetings, too.

It irritated him even further.

Not for the first time, he went through his mental checklist of things he needed to keep track of:

First: that Force-be-damned, poodoo-sucking _Sith Lord_ was in Palpatine's inner circle and feeding his poor mentor a ridiculous pack of lies.

Second: Padme was part of an inner council of resistance to Palpatine's - meaning the Sith's - political machinations and trying to create change in the Senate.

Third: The Jedi were doing the exact same thing as Padme and the others; but they were entirely separate from Padme and didn't want anyone to know that they were maneuvering to block the Sith's goals. As a side note the Jedi didn't even know what the Sith's goals _were_.

Fourth: Ahsoka; poor, sweet, impetuous Ahsoka, had gotten stuck as the middleman for the Senate and the Jedi, meeting and making good impressions on Padme's resistance while keeping Anakin and Obi-Wan in the loop so that at least some of the Council knew what was going on.

Fifth: The Council actually didn't know about the Senate's inner resistance, because Obi-Wan said they had to wait until the delegation was comfortable with the idea.

Sixth: Obi-Wan, for whatever reason, had caught the eye of that Force-be-damned, poodoo-sucking Sith Lord and said Sith Lord was trying very hard to _kill_ him. There had already been one attempt on his life at a political function of all places, putting Padme also in danger _and_ Ahsoka _and_ his unborn child.

Seventh: In an attempt to rout out the Force-be-damned, poodoo-sucking Sith Lord, the Council, in their infinite wisdom, wanted to appear weak and had put Obi-Wan in charge of hunting down Grievous and sent Yoda to Kyshyyyk.

Eighth: A freaking vision of all his closest loved ones in agony in one way or another (or in Padme's case, _dying_) had been plaguing him for _over a week_. Sleep? No way. He hadn't slept in so long, there were bags under his eyes, his sense of time was screwed, and even Padme was starting to show signs of lack of sleep since his nightmares always sent him jolting out of bed, waking her. Obi-Wan was taking every free moment he had to research things in the Archives about visions so that they could have some idea of what to look for about this freaking vision.

Etc. Etc. Etc.

Needless to say, Anakin had a lot on his plate. Padme's latest visit with a healer had gone well, showing both her and the baby were doing well. While this helped ease Anakin's mind, that didn't mean a damn thing when it came to external factors that could go wrong.

Really, was it so wrong to want everyone he loved to stay healthy and alive? He'd barely had a week to mend things with Ahsoka after her hurtful realization that he, Obi-Wan, and Padme had been keeping some very large secrets from her. She still stung once in a while and Anakin did what he could to soothe it as best as he could. Padme was stressed to the extreme and good reports aside, Anakin didn't want to think about what that could do to the baby. Obi-Wan, thankfully, hadn't been sent on any missions to find Grievous, but it could still be done at a moment's notice and something about that didn't sit well with Anakin. At all. None of this.

But as he stepped into the Chancellor's private booth, he took a deep breath and pushed it all away. He could worry later, when he was deep in meditation with either Ahsoka or Obi-Wan and the Force could wash away his anxiety.

"Ah, Anakin, so good of you to come," Palpatine greeted warmly, as he always did.

"Chancellor," Anakin bowed, none of his irritation showing. "You sent for me."

Palpatine nodded, and turned to his companions. "Leave us," he commanded. Not asked, no requested, commanded. Anakin blinked. Palpatine was Chancellor, and he would always give orders so that the Republic could keep functioning, but they always sounded polite. Genuine. Kind and gentle. There was none of that in those two words, only a cold command from one higher in station to those below him. Which might have made sense, given that those with the Chancellor were people he worked with in the Senate. The Speaker and _. Technically, Palpatine _was_ higher in station, at least in terms of job. But the Republic was about making people equal, so that all had a voice. It didn't always work well, but it was something that Anakin had appreciated when he'd started learning back when he arrived at the Temple. The Republic outlawed slavery for a _reason_.

But Palpatine had always smiled and told Anakin that he was above others as well. Something he'd appreciated growing up, since he'd been _below_ everyone as a slave. But now, hearing him command people he worked so closely with, and with such a cold voice, was a little startling.

That wasn't the Palpatine that Anakin knew and respected.

Anger swirled briefly. This was all that _Sith_'s fault. He was the reason that Palpatine sounded so cold. If only Anakin could _find_ him.

With the box empty, Palpatine gestured to a seat by his side, something Anakin was more familiar with from his days as a youngling.

Anakin looked out at the Mon Calamari as they swim from one zero gravity pool to another with bright streamers flowing behind them.

"My boy," Palpatine started. "I have good news. We have discovered the location of General Grievous."

Obi-Wan, without many of the filters they usually keep on their bond, was already turning attention to look through Anakin's eyes after a soft request for permission that Anakin granted without hesitation.

"Sir," Anakin quietly replied. "I must tell the Council immediately. We must catch that monster to finish the war."

The old man nodded, turning a strange smile over to him. "We all seek the end of this war. And soon. My boy, how are you? You look... tired."

Anakin frowned, knowing he looked much worse than "tired".

"I have many duties, Chancellor, with a Padawan, the Council, this war. With Grievous found and soon caught, I will be very well indeed."

"Indeed."

Anakin started to stand. They had much work to do if they were going to get Grievous, but Palpatine put a hand on his arm. The young Jedi sat back down. "You seem stressed, my boy; tell me, is there anything I can do to help?"

_That_ was the Palpatine he knew, the one who listened to all of his problems, the one who worried about others. Anakin almost instinctively relaxed; so comfortable he was with this Palpatine. Almost. He didn't relax, however, because he knew that he could not take advantage of the old man in that way. He could not dump his problems onto the Chancellor's lap; not with the Sith looming over their shoulders in the shadows. He could not compromise everything they were working for.

... What were they working for? It was hard for Anakin to keep it all straight sometimes.

He smiled softly, perhaps a little sadly, and shook his head. "It's nothing for you to concern yourself with," he said.

"Come, come," Palpatine said smoothly, "We don't keep secrets from each other my boy; you've told me everything before, why should that be any different now?"

Anakin squirmed at the question, asking Obi-Wan mentally how he could answer that and still keep his conscious quiet. His former master could offer no platitudes other than the truth: that Anakin couldn't say; and that just made the Jedi feel even worse.

Palpatine sensed his unease, however, and pulled his gaze back to the opera. "Perhaps I should take a guess," he said softly, genially, "to spare you the guilt of confession."

Anakin sank back into his seat, feeling like a child.

"You are under a great deal of stress, of course. I'm asking you to watch the Jedi, they are asking you to watch me most likely. Double agents never have an easy task, their loyalties are so strained that ultimately they are trusted by no one, to be cast off when the job is done." Anakin bristled at that; the words striking at an unrealized fear of his - but Obi-Wan was already offering support and reassurance along the bond, reaffirming that _he_ at least trusted Anakin with his life. "You're stuck here on Coruscant, and I know you'd rather be on the front lines. Tell me, how is Master Kenobi fairing? I'd heard about the Separatist assault on Corellia, Master Kenobi was very badly hurt I'm told. Is he healing?"

"He's doing fine, Chancellor," Anakin said, happy at least to share this good news. It was also sticking it to the Sith, letting the bastard know that killing his master was going to be more than a little hard.

"I'm glad to hear of it," Palpatine said, smiling sincerely. "It so restrictive, putting you in this position; I'd rather have picked someone else but you're really the only Jedi I trust. Even Master Kenobi, for all your faith in him, I fear is in on the plot, and I can only imagine how their plans are fairing now that they have Count Dooku."

Anakin frowned. "Sir?"

"Count Dooku is in your custody; I can only assume his interviews are going badly, otherwise the Jedi would have turned the man over to the Senate for his public trial. Tell me, is he still alive or has the High Council quietly disposed of him?"

Anakin didn't even try to hide the balk. Obi-Wan too, in a corner of his mind, was groaning at the very suggestion.

"Chancellor," Anakin said, disgust in his voice, "Count Dooku is just _fine_. He's been given the best medical treatment, he's amputations are healing nicely, and he's more than happy to dance circles around the Council in debate. He gives very little information away and the rest is spent talking in riddles; like how he's going to reveal the Sith's identi-"

_Anakin! Don't say another word!_

Anakin blinked, sending back, _Why not? He has a right to know._

_ Yes, he does, but the Sith doesn't. I know the stress this is placing on you, but you must keep your mouth closed._

The Jedi bit his lip hard, dipping his head down and pressing his forehead into his knuckles. Palpatine was watching him, he knew that, but he just needed a moment to _feel_ before he could control himself. He mentally shrieked at the unfairness of it all, railed and moaned against the position he'd been put in and the terrible things he was doing to damage his relationship with an admired mentor. Anakin just needed to be _angry_, just for a moment, to let the dragon out of his chest and give it room to quail and roar before he could take a deep breath and settle his mind down. There weren't even any droids he could take his frustrations out on, and he mentally worked himself through the most difficult battle he could imagine, putting himself through all his paces and using up all his energy. Above everything else, he needed control, he knew it; he _did_, and so he did everything in his power to get control before he started swinging his lightsaber.

Dimly, across the choked bond, he felt Obi-Wan's deep sadness and understanding, before politely putting his filters back up and allowing him the privacy he could grant.

It was several minutes later that he sat back, straight, and glared menacingly at the opera, the Mon Calamari as they jumped from bubble to bubble, telling a story he didn't know nor cared about. Taking another deep breath, he finally turned to Palpatine, who was looking at him with cautious impassivity.

"I don't blame you," Palpatine said finally, sighing and turning back to the opera. "You have every right to be angry. Anger is a powerful emotion, and many people in history have done great things with it. Passion, too, makes a person capable of enormous feats, and I know that the day will come when you do these things to. I am reminded of the tragedy of Darth Plageus."

Anakin frowned, the foreign name breaking through his headache and perking his interest. "Who?"

"He was a great being," Palpatine said, watching the opera. "His anger and his passion gave him powers so great, it was said that he could even stop his loved ones from dying."

... What?

... _What?_

Visions of Padme in his dream filled his mind, her crying and desperation, Obi-Wan by her side - Wait, Obi-Wan was there? - begging her to hang on while he was dying with emotional pain. Padme, she'd died in the dream... was there a way to prevent that? To stave off at least one facet of the coming atrocity? Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, he didn't know how to help them, but could he really, _really_, stop Padme from _dying_? Stop the most terrible part of his vision? How...? Where...? Was it even _possible_?

Anakin voiced his question, and felt chilled when Palpatine, face cast in stark shadows of the dim light, turned slowly to him to answer.

"Not from a Jedi," he said simply.

The moment hung in the air, heavy, Anakin staring at his mentor with new eyes. How did he know this story? Where did he come across it, when did the Supreme Chancellor even have _time_ to look up a story like this? Questions were firing back and forth in his head, too fast to completely process; he was overloaded with emotions he couldn't name. He needed to _think_, and Obi-Wan wasn't there to spur him on to it.

Suddenly, the moment past, and Palpatine gave a warm, friendly smile. "Don't worry my boy," he said lightly. "I'm sure you'll figure out what to do. You know you can come to me whenever you wish. I'll always be here."

Anakin blinked, all the emotion bringing up a mental picture of Palpatine prone to a red lightsaber. He shook the imagination off, growling at the thought. "Sir," he said softly, his tenor voice trembling with feeling. "Sir, it's not safe for you here."

Palpatine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Sir, Chancellor, I'm not the only one under stress," he replied, using his will to focus on this task. Padme had the right idea, and he would do everything in his power to keep the people he admired safe. He took a chance. "Sir, you've been in charge of the Republic since I was nine years old; you're over sixty now. I can't even imagine the stress you're under. I'm worried about you."

Palpatine smiled again, reaching out and putting a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "I manage just fine, son."

"Sir, it's dangerous for you," Anakin pressed, leaning forward. "Even putting your age and your health aside, there's one thing we can be sure of: the Sith wants control of the galaxy. You hold the highest political position in the Republic. That makes you a target. You're not safe."

To this, Palpatine actually _laughed_. "My dear boy, this wouldn't be the first time I've received threats on my life. I've handled it before; I'll handle it now. I have complete faith in my security."

"You shouldn't."

"And why is that?" Palpatine asked in a casual air. "What do you know that I don't?"

Cornered, Anakin threw discretion to the wind and plunged forward. "It's circumstantial, sir, but there's evidence that the Sith is in your inner circle. We don't know who yet, but he's been orchestrating things for _years_. With the way things are it wouldn't take much to completely take over. Sir, I don't want you in the line of fire when that happens. You need to retire."

Palpatine's face completely closed off, however, and he leaned back in his chair, away from Anakin. The action hurt deeply.

"How convenient," the Supreme Chancellor said. "A Sith in my office. Let me tell you something, Anakin: if I actually believed in the idea of the Sith and I learned he was in my office, do you know what I would do? I would ask him what was necessary to _end the war_. Who and what you are, is irrelevant, it's a founding principal of the Republic, so I don't care if somebody is a Sith. If they have a good idea how to save the Republic and restore order, I'll listen to it. _That_ is what is important: that things get done, not who is suggesting what. Not even how it's done!

"Anakin, I will tell you right now, I don't think a Sith is in my office. I do think my life is in danger, and that the Republic is in danger, but not from some thousand years dead phantom. And I won't back down because the _Jedi_ think it will further their agenda if I'm quickly removed from a job that I've worked for, for over a decade."

Palpatine sighed, suddenly looking very, very old. He put a hand to his head, rubbing his crisp white hair. The harsh shadows and dim light made him look almost ghostly. "I'm sorry, Anakin," he whispered. "I didn't mean to take my aggression out on you, but you can tell that damn Council that I won't be retiring any time soon, not when the Republic needs me."

And then, like at the beginning of there meeting, Palpatine gave an order:

"Leave me."

"Sir, I didn't mean to-"

"No, Anakin, I'm sure you didn't," Palpatine said, still completely closed off. "But your intentions are irrelevant. Intentions are _always_ irrelevant; it is _action_ that matters, and now you've shown me where your loyalties lie. Whatever you feel for the Republic, you will follow the _Jedi_ first, and that means I can't trust you. Leave me."

"But-"

"_Leave_."

Anakin found himself compelled to comply.

* * *

Sidious had learned what he needed. Dooku was going to betray him and needed to be dealt with firmly. Skywalker could not turn with the Jedi still alive, but the seeds were there. Anger had many causes, and if arrogance had been stomped out of the boy, then there were certainly _other_ means to ignite rage.

Genocide, for example. He had dropped enough hints to the Council, he could drop more if he needed to.

They would be at his office soon.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Okay. Start playing Battle of Heroes and Duel of Fates from now until the end. Because things start to get _interesting_.

Next week: Gee, what could it be... Order 66 anyone?


	44. Where Order 66 Begins

**Where Order 66 Begins**

Anakin came out of meditation, still irritated, annoyed and above all, _worried_. Since that conversation with the Chancellor the previous day, he'd had this intensive feeling that _something_ was going to happen and _soon_. But he still had no idea what or where or when and he could be as watchful as he wanted, that didn't change the fact that it was _coming_ and he felt so unprepared.

To make matters even _worse_ (as if things weren't bad enough), Obi-Wan had left that morning to face off with Grievous, assuming the Chancellor's information was correct, and the moment he'd said, "You are strong and wise, Anakin. And I am very proud of you," Anakin had _felt_ something. Like those would be the last words he'd ever hear from his brother-turned-father's lips.

This didn't even get into the strange story of Darth Plageus that the Chancellor had no business knowing. When Anakin had mentioned it to Obi-Wan, after he'd gotten more clear-headed, Obi-Wan had spent the whole night in the Archives, searching for any such story, but to no avail. All their Sith legend holocrons didn't even have a mention of Plageus, which left one wondering how in the galaxy Palpatine had heard the story.

Just how close was the Sith if it was able to tell such a story to the leader of the Republic and not be noticed?

And of course, his meditations had brought up that terrible vision again. (He just _couldn't_ escape from seeing Padme dying while Obi-Wan and Ahsoka suffered, not even for a few _hours_.)

Anakin sighed.

"Master."

Looking up with a slight start, Anakin blinked at his young Padawan. "Sorry, Snips. Was all that slipping through?"

She shook her head, kneeling down in front of him. "Not really. Or rather, I felt it, but it didn't overwhelm me like it's doing to you." She rubbed her arms. "Not like it's overwhelming you. And it's strange that I know that, because I _shouldn't_ be able to feel that much. But it's not intrusive, just there if I want to tune in."

Anakin nodded. "This is a lot for you to take in. Obi-Wan and I didn't stumble onto this until I was much older than you are. But I must say, little one. You're shielding is impressive if I'm not completely overshadowing your thoughts."

Ahsoka pouted at him. "Master, you've been drilling shielding into me since you first accepted me as your Padawan. Even my teachers here at the Temple are very impressed by what I can do."

He gave a smooth smile, tapping her forehead. "Just preparing you for the unknown."

"Yeah," she grumbled. "I thought it was in case I faced Dooku or Ventress. Who knew it was because of your over-inflated ego?"

Anakin chuckled, so very glad that she was there to distract him, however, briefly, from everything they were trying to do.

She glanced at him, no doubt sensing his happiness at her presence, and smiled. "So, my master, are you ready for the Council meeting?"

"What's the point if Obi-Wan's in transit," Anakin replied, stretching. "I swear, they're taking advantage of the fact that I can communicate with him so easily."

Ahsoka giggled and hesitantly tried to send him a wave of warmth and affection like he often did with her now that she knew about what the bond could do.

"Thanks, Ahsoka," he said quietly, reaching forward to put a hand on her shoulder. "You're pretty good at that. You're picking up quickly. Obi-Wan and I took far too long figuring this thing out."

Ahsoka nodded. "I'm still so amazed at how quickly this is going. I thought you'd be much slower on this. I don't have anywhere near the training you did when you and Master Obi-Wan started."

_Because there's no time left_, Anakin thought to himself with a frown. Another image came forward in his mind, of his vision. Ahsoka, off on some planet alone in room, as her bright orange skin paled to a faded peach before clutching her chest tightly and falling into a fetal position as tears started to flow from her eyes.

His Padawan gave a small gasp before flinging herself to him in a desperate hug. "Master, is _that_ what you've been seeing?" she whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. She shivered. He nodded beside her montral. "And Padme dies? And Master Obi-Wan is distraught?"

He held her tighter, the images already coming forward and he knew that they were slipping through the bond. "I'll keep you all safe," he promised. "I'll be there for you. Wherever you need me. Whenever you need me." _Even if all I can be is a presence in a bond. I won't abandon you._

And the warmth and affection from his Padawan wasn't nearly so hesitant this time. Nor was Obi-Wan's from far away as he continued his journey to Utapau. Nor was Padme's, as it suddenly flared with heated passion for him as she somehow sensed his distress.

They stayed like that for a moment. Just holding each other and swirling in love.

"Okay, Snips. I need to be somewhere."

Ahsoka nodded, her montral poking deeply into his cheek. "Is there _anything_ I can do for you, Master?"

Anakin paused, looking at his visions and thinking of an idea. "Stay with Padme. That way, at least, neither of you are alone. Because something's going to happen. _Soon_."

His Padawan nodded, adjusting her lightsabers at her belt, and stood easily. "Then I'll see you at dinner tonight, right?"

Anakin grinned. "Yes."

Nodding, Ahsoka quickly left.

Anakin felt better. So he decided it was time to stop moping around with angst and start doing something.

First thing's first. Skip a Council meeting and crash an interview.

* * *

Dooku sat, back straight, legs crossed, arms resting lightly on his legs as if his hands were neatly folded, bearing the presence of an aristocratic gentleman, as he always did. Since he had dropped that little tidbit scant days ago about possibly mentioning who the Sith really was, they had been pressing him. Really it was far too enjoyable to talk circles around such venerable Council members as Mace Windu and whatever troop he dragged along with himself. Yoda was apparently off-planet and Dooku had no doubt as to why. The Council, in a feeble attempt at deceit, was trying to appear weak and divided.

Really, it was a wonder that the Jedi had lasted so long.

He long knew the routine by now. So he decided it was time to bring it all to a close.

"Come, Master Windu, is it not time for another war meeting? Oh, pardon me, don't we mean _Council_ meeting?"

The Korun Jedi was good. Not even a twitch of a brow at the fact that Dooku was completely leading the interview, despite being the one in the cell.

Agen Kolar, standing patiently and calmly behind Windu, just gave a smile.

And they could not even deny that Dooku was leading the interview. Because they were the ones seeking information which he would not give until they grew brains. Really, Kenobi would be far better for verbal sparring. At least that man bore a sense of humor, dry as it was. And watching his bond with that whelp Skywalker was a fascinating study.

But ah, here came the object of study now. Skywalker came into the room, all calm confidence, yet Dooku could sense the swirling unease within him. It seemed Sidious was ramping up attempts to turn the boy. Perhaps through confusion since the boy was too stupid to turn otherwise. Even after his months of captivity, he still could not fathom Sidious' interest in the whelp; his dark tendencies aside he had nothing desirable about him. He was impulsive, emotional, and entirely prone to histrionics and outbursts. He was a child, and Dooku could never understand where the potential was. He offered nothing, not even acknowledging his presence.

"Who is Darth Plageus?" he demanded.

The entire room fell silent at his unwarranted question.

Dooku leveled a narrow gaze. "Who?" he demanded.

"Darth Plageus," Skywalker demanded, irritation coloring his voice. "A Sith who was so powerful that he kept his loved ones from dying."

Now this was truly abominable. Dooku thought it appropriate to show his distaste and glared at the boy. "And what does this have to do with me?"

"How did your 'master' know the story? Is any part of it real? What kinds of records are there?"

Dooku sneered. "And how, might I ask, did you come across this fairytale?"

"Don't avoid the question!" Skywalker snapped, his calm exterior quickly breaking.

"Very well," Dooku said, raising an eyebrow. He paused a moment, wondering whether he should lie or tell the truth. He'd never _heard_ of Darth Plageus, but then, he could take a more than educated guess as to where the story came from - carefully orchestrated and artfully articulated. The former Sith wondered if Skywalker's folk tale had any validity to it, but then; Sidious never spoke of his own master. It was the way of the Sith. It was more likely a falsehood, a bait to set a trap for Skywalker. It fell back to whether or not he could stand helping Sidious in any way.

He couldn't.

"I know nothing about the Darth, boy," he said with venom. "Sidious did not dictate his entire back story, and Sith lore is hardly interesting."

"Then _why_?" the boy demanded.

"Why what?" Dooku retorted, utterly bored with the child and wishing he would simply go away. Kenobi, he would make this fun. Skywalker had no _style_.

"Why did he tell the story to Palpatine if he didn't tell it to you?" he hissed.

And, finally, all at once, Windu figured it out. The bald Jedi master stood abruptly, the only sign of his insight. "This interview is over," he said in cold tones, leveling a gauging eye on Dooku. "Thank you for all your information," he added stiffly.

Dooku offered a dark, oily smile. "I remain your humble servant, gentlemen," he said lightly. "I'm certain," he added, just as Windu ushered the others out of the room, "that my former master will be expecting you."

Windu turned slightly, the corner of his eye locking onto Dooku. Finally, he said,

"I expect he will."

Dooku sat back and waited for the fireworks to begin.

* * *

Mace rubbed his forehead, one of the few signs he allowed himself to show his distress. Agen eyed him wearily, knowing the signs, but Skywalker was still fuming. "Why did you end the interview?" he demanded. "He still hasn't told us anything. He hasn't told us anything for _months_, and I need answers from him!"

"You have done quite enough, _young_ Skywalker," Mace said, thoroughly not wanting to deal with the Chosen One. However inadvertently, he had discovered the identity of the Sith Lord. Dooku had said it himself, Sidious did not speak of his past to his own apprentice; logic would dictate that he told no one. So, logic dictated, how would Palpatine know the story?

Unless he was the Sith himself.

It all fell into place after that. It fit together in a way that frightened Mace; he looked back on the last dozen years and saw with perfect vision how this had all come about. Hindsight brought it all into sharp focus and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

He rubbed his forehead again.

Skywalker was still whining. "Mace, I have to go back in there! If it's true-!" he cut off his sentence, instead opting for, "I need to know!"

"No, young Skywalker," Mace said, Agen standing at his shoulder. The boy couldn't know of this, his position was likely compromised if Sidious deliberately dropped the hint of his identity. His eyes widened as he looked at Skywalker again, realizing that he had become a _living_ shatterpoint. Mace didn't know how to react to that, he was still reeling at the discovery of Palpatine; he needed time to compartmentalize and process this. Except there wasn't time, if Palpatine was being this direct then he was planning something. Obi-Wan off to Utapau suddenly seemed like a bad decision - if Dooku were right and Sidious was trying hard to kill Kenobi, then he may well be running off into a trap given that he was moving on Palpatine's information.

* * *

Anakin was fuming. Granted, a great deal of that fuming had been blown down to mere coals with Obi-Wan's gentle warmth flowing along their bond, but Anakin wasn't quite willing to let go of his smolder. After that interview with Dooku, Mace had the audacity to send him away like a youngling to go and "meditate on your feelings and release them."

Really? Seriously? Anakin was on the _Council_ now, thank you. Didn't he deserve at least a _little_ more respect than that?

_Well you didn't exactly act at your best,_ Obi-Wan gently reminded him.

_Not helping_, Anakin growled back. But he acknowledged that he hadn't really handled the situation well by just barging in and demanding things without having already discussed it with the Council. But _something_ needed to be done. The only option was to sit and wait, which Anakin was sick of. If he didn't like his options, he _made_ new ones, which was why he'd gone to try and stir things up in the first place.

When Anakin had gone to see Mace and try and talk about things, the Councilor had refused and told Anakin to go back to his meditations.

Thus it was only natural that Anakin was ignoring this directive completely and going to have dinner with Padme and Ahsoka. At least with them they might be able to come up with something.

Anakin shook his head and let out a deep breath. He was getting impulsive again. He'd need to rein that in before he started doing things without a clear picture. But something felt like it was eating at his heels. Something was going to happen. And he was reacting to the need to react to that something.

_Anything I can do, Master?_

And he couldn't help but smile. _Thanks, Snips. Just make sure we have a good dinner. I'm almost there._

_Not a problem._

Anakin took a moment to bask in the warmth of all his loved ones, letting their reassurance and care sooth his anxiety.

"Ani!" Padme greeted when he dropped down onto her balcony.

"Hey, beautiful angel," he replied, hugging her close, relishing in the swell of their child between them.

"Ahsoka's been telling me you've had a frustrating day."

Anakin nodded against her. "Hope my feelings haven't been bugging her too much."

"Not at all, Skyguy," his Padawan replied, her arms laden with a plate of delectable food as she walked to the dining table.

"Ah, Master Ani!" Threepio greeted. "So good to see you again!"

"Hey," Anakin greeted, pulling away from his wife enough to go over and help Ahsoka with all the food. "Did I miss something? This is more than usual."

Padme shrugged. "I just felt like we all needed it."

Anakin smiled, kissing her cheek.

They talked, reviewing their days as they sat down when Anakin stiffened, his eyes looking out to the stars to a planet many lightyears away.

"Ani?"

"Master?"

Anakin offered a grimacing smile. "Obi-Wan's engaged Grievous. Separatist Council just got away."

There was a quiet moment.

"Master, shouldn't you be contacting the Council? The Chancellor?"

Padme put her hand on his arm, offering her love and support.

Anakin looked around to his family. "I think they can wait until after dinner," he replied. Because Mace was not going to listen to him and his strange conversation with Palpatine the night before made him hesitant to go back at that very moment.

* * *

Sidious couldn't quite stop the smile that spread across his face as he sensed the Jedi's arrival. It wasn't how he originally planned it. Far from it. But he would be able to turn Skywalker to the Darkside. The boy had already proven that if a loved one died, he would have no problems touching the Darkness. Indeed, Kenobi didn't die from Ventress, but when Skywalker saw the Acolyte again, he unleashed the Darkness in his heart.

The cursed bond that existed between Skywalker and Kenobi was no longer tarnishable. For all of Sidious's hints that Kenboi was in on a plot to overthrow Palpatine, possibly kill him, Skywalker denied it with utter certainty. All that was left was for Kenobi to die. With the rest of the Jedi. Because if Skywalker could touch the Darkside after Kenobi's almost-death, then he would sink in willingly when the rest of the Jedi fell. Genocide would be such a good motivator. Then, set up Skywalker's precious Senator to appear to have an affair for the ultimate betrayal and dear old Palpatine would be all the boy had left that he believed in.

It would likely also be a good idea to offer up a substitute for the Sith Lord Sidious so that Skywalker could extract his vengeance and never suspect kindly old Palpatine was manipulating him so easily.

Sidious's plans were well laid. Even with unexpected turns, there was only one outcome. Skywalker would become his apprentice.

There was no doubt.

And what better way to slay all the Jedi, than to set them up as traitors, so that even the everyday populace would turn on them?

Mace Windu stormed into Palpatine's office, Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar and Saesee Tiin fanning out around him.

Sidious was disappointed. They hadn't even noticed that there were no Red Guards barring their path.

"Chancellor. You're under arrest," Windu said with a frosty voice.

Reaching out with the barest of touches to the Force, Sidious turned on an audio-recorder hidden in his office.

Time for a command performance.

* * *

Anakin glanced up again when Threepio, aided by Artoo, brought in a delicious berry pie for dessert, once again looking out to a place only he could be aware of in that moment.

"Ani?"

He smiled widely, turning to his wife and Padawan. "Grievous is dead."

"Yes!" Ahsoka cried out, standing in an energetic display of excitement. "Without Dooku, without Grievous, we win!"

Padme was already leaning over and kissing Anakin, smiling between giggles and smooches.

Anakin reveled in the feeling. _Finally_. The Separatists would have no choice but to sue for peace and then it was just a matter of hunting down Sidious. Even though his position between the Chancellor and the Council hadn't changed, Anakin still felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of him. They were just that much closer.

Turning to his Padawan, he put on a stern face, despite his lips twitching to smirk. "My young Padawan, a Jedi does not rejoice in the death of anyone. It is a sad thing that it had to come to that," he said in his best Obi-Wan-stern tone.

Ahsoka offered her best Anakin-unrepentant look and stuck out her tongue.

Padme laughed before she gasped, her hands going to her stomach.

"Angel?"

"Padme?"

His beautiful wife smiled. "Sorry," she smiled. "The baby's kicking."

Anakin and Ahsoka both reached out to feel the little miracle.

* * *

With a flick of his fingers, Sidious let his lightning fade. Really, he knew the Jedi would be easy to defeat, but that was just pathetic. Three down before even a second. Only Mace Windu and his famed Vapaad lasted any length of time. And even that had been pathetically short. Windu's Vapaad was based on being a conduit, an open circuit to take the Darkside and funnel it through his moves, yet not actually touch it for use. It was a form that required a great deal of focus and concentration to not touch the Dark, but when up against a Sith, it was probably the worst form to use. Had Skywalker been there, perhaps he would have played at being weak and using the boy's fondness for Palpatine against him.

But with Windu being an open source to the Darkside, Sidious thought it only appropriate to use the Darkness Windu was funneling against the Vapaad master. Granted, Windu was _good_ with the Darkside, despite not touching it. Sidious had been transformed by his own lightning. But it was no matter for the Sith Lord. His exterior merely matched his interior now. And it made for a sympathy plea to the Senate, further pulling them under his control. Between his new shape and the audio recordings, Sidious could now completely take control of the Republic. Indeed, it would no longer be a republic. It would be an _empire_.

Sidious laughed.

_His_ Empire.

He kicked aside the body of Tiin from his desk and sat down.

Time to kill Kenobi and begin the removal of the Jedi. Once he had established his Empire, it would be time to start pitting Amidala against Skywalker.

Oh so very easy.

Love was fickle that way.

He opened a channel to all clones. With utmost glee, he said four words in his harsher voice that made the galaxy his.

"Execute Order Sixty-Six."

* * *

Obi-Wan patted Boga's neck as he urged her up the steep sides of the sinkhole. He could still see the fire of his troops against the droids several levels above him, and he wanted this battle _over_ so he could go home. With Grievous gone, he and the Council and Anakin and Padme could start doing what was more _important_. Flushing out Sidious. This terrible war would no longer be a constant pull, a distraction. There were still things to do, yes. Negotiate peace; tend to the people who had been suffering for so long; reduce armaments, the list was endless. But that was what Jedi were supposed to do as peacekeepers.

From his bond, he could feel Anakin sending much love and affection his way, which was a nice balm for his tired body. Indeed, if he spent a moment to focus... Anakin was redefining impossible again. Mixed with Anakin's usual exuberance was the care and gratitude of both Padme and Ahsoka. Really, Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder sometimes how his old Padawan kept everything straight in his own mind.

There was a flare of warning in the Force and before he even realized what was happening, he was turning in his saddle to deflect fire from... _his own men_?

Then Boga was curled around him as they were both in some sort of freefall and Obi-Wan briefly realized that he was about to land in the water with a several-ton mount wrapped around him and what to do...

Black.

* * *

He shot up out of his seat so fast that his chair clattered behind him. "_Traitors_!" he growled, anger swelling within him before unconsciousness flung Anakin back into reality, because he wasn't on Utapau, but with his family.

He blinked. "Kriffin' _traitors_," he growled again. More invective, contumelious things started spilling from his lips in many, many languages.

"Master? What-"

Anakin slammed his fist on the table. "_Fucking traitors_!" he shouted.

Padme put a hand on his arm and that cut through Anakin's overpowering feelings enough for him to take a deep breath and start reining things in. Obi-Wan didn't have time. _They_ didn't have time. This was the start of it. And he was _not_ going to start reacting without information. His instincts would have him running straight to Utapau or the Chancellor or the Council in order to _do_ something and he needed to _think_. But Obi-wan was in danger and that was overriding almost everything going through his mind.

Oddly, it was an old lesson of Obi-Wan's that he'd had to teach Ahsoka not all that long ago that sprang to his mind and gave him a plan to cling to. _When overwhelmed, find someplace safe and regroup_. A lesson that Anakin usually ignored unless he had troops and people to look over, and a lesson that his Padawan needed pounded into her given her tendency to not be able to see a large picture when focused in a battle.

Deep breath.

"Padme, get Typho and get a transport."

"But-"

He pulled her close into a fierce hug. "Angel, there's not time. While you're doing that, Ahsoka and I are going to have a conference with Obi-Wan."

With a helpless little sigh, Padme nodded.

"Snips. Meditation. Now."

"But-"

_Question later. Meditation. Now_, he growled, already sitting right where he was on the floor. Ahsoka took the time to sit by his side, and they slipped into the Force.

Anakin was surprised to feel so much Darkness swirling around. He'd never seen such murkiness before, but he couldn't spare the thought on what was going on to cause it. Ahsoka was by his side and they started sinking together as equals, the only way to do what Anakin had in mind.

He _worked_ to not hurry it along, because Ahsoka had only started doing this with him barely over a week ago and this _couldn't_ be rushed. He needed her to be able to hear Obi-Wan as clearly as him, and he couldn't see how that would work at such a distance unless they weren't hampered by the Teacher-Student filters usually in place. It was a level of connection that needed equality. Neither was better. The only difference was experience.

Once they were as deep as he needed, Anakin reached along his bond with Obi-Wan and yanked.

Obi-Wan rose to consciousness and without any filters, Anakin and Ahsoka could clearly see that Obi-Wan was underwater. There was a frantic moment of orienting himself, before Anakin's brother-turned-father pulled out a rebreather and settled into meditation. Let the currents take him where he was needed.

_Obi-Wan!_

_ Anakin? Is that... Ahsoka?_

_ Yes, Master Obi-Wan._

And there was a distinct feeling from Obi-Wan, brief as it was, that Anakin had redefined impossible, _again_.

_Can someone explain things to me now?_ Ahsoka asked, somewhat impatiently to hide her fear.

_My clones just shot me down._

_ ...WHAT?_

_ Obi-Wan, I'm getting Padme, Ahsoka and myself _off_ of Coruscant. Can you secure a transport without clone interference?_

_ The clones _shot_ at you? And _not_ accidentally?_

_ Calm _down_, Snips, panic won't help right now._

Because really? Anakin was far too close to panic right now. Because something was _wrong_ and he was suggesting _running_ which went _against_ everything he was and didn't know what else to _do_, because all he knew was that if the clones _turned_ on Obi-Wan, clones couldn't be trusted, and there were clones _all over_ Coruscant.

_Anakin is right, Ahsoka. We have been blindsided. We need to regroup._

_ Padme!_ Ahsoka shouted. _Master, your vision of her dying and everything else, does this mean it's happening _now_?_

_ Most likely,_ he replied. _Which his why I'm going with you two. _

There was no denying Ahsoka's dislike of this idea of running. Anakin didn't like it either. He didn't _have_ to like it as long as it kept his family safe, because that was his priority. His family.

_But what about the others?_ Ahsoka asked. _We have to warn Master Plo and all the other Jedi!_

And suddenly it wasn't just his family. Anakin started swearing in earnest again.

_Send a transmission, Anakin. But worry about getting your family out of there and I'll contact you on our third channel._

_ The one I modified into com' units?_

_ Yes, I'll patch it into whatever communications my ship will have._

Anakin nodded to himself. It wasn't much of a plan. But it was something he could focus on.

_Anakin._

_ Yes?_

_ I know you have good reason to be cautious of the Council. I may not agree, but I _understand_. But I think it's time we talked to Yoda at least. Told him everything._

Anakin squirmed at the idea. Yoda, in particular, had been against him being trained, though the old troll seemed to have softened to him over the years and indeed, taken a liking to him in his own bizarre way. But that didn't soften the old sting of his initial rejection. Of what that rejection had done to Obi-Wan's confidence. Of how despite the fact that he couldn't imagine not having Snips by his side anymore, her initial assigning to him was Yoda meddling in what Obi-Wan had done a superb job in.

_I... We'll talk about it once we've all regrouped and have more information._

_ Master, I think we need to get going._

_ I'll meet up with you soon. Be safe, Anakin._

_ Double for you, my old master._

* * *

"_Fucking traitors!_"

Padme didn't shrink away from the language like she used to; she'd grown quite accustomed to his bursts of profanity as strong emotion hit him. What did make her step back, however, was his tone, the look on his face, the emotion he was feeling - the last time she'd seen that look on his face was when he went off to look for his mother; stalking off the Lars farm and ready to spill blood. He looked like that now, and Padme worried what had possibly happened to draw out that look on his face.

"Padme, get Typho and get a transport."

"But-" she started, wanting to know what had happened.

He pulled her close into a fierce hug. "Angel, there's _no time_. While you're doing that, Ahsoka and I are going to have a conference with Obi-Wan."

He turned his glare to his confused Padawan and Padme knew they were talking with their feelings again. Whatever had happened had to have been serious; and so she wasted no time dashing to the wall communicator across the room.

"Captain Typho, get up here," she said in a strained voice, "Something's happened."

The one-eyed man was instantly concerned. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

"I don't know," she snapped, "Just get up here!" She stepped back from the comm. The pacing started soon after; her belly felt like it was swaying back and forth and she kept an arm on it to keep it still. The other went to the small of her back and she worked hard on keeping her breathing even. She was worried; stars above she was _worried_.

"Senator!" Typho burst into the apartments, two men flanking him, blasters drawn. She didn't blame them; her life had been threatened more often than not since the start of the war, and she knew she should have found it comforting, but she found it didn't help. At all. "What happened?" he demanded, his one eye hard with concern and anticipation.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, still pacing. Irritation surged threw her suddenly and she gestured towards the flank-men. "For pity's sake, put the blasters away," she said shortly, unable to completely contain the worried, nervous energy that was coursing through her. The baby felt it, too, and was kicking up a storm.

The other men were dismissed, and the privacy, such as it was, was welcome as she faced her chief of security head on. "Master Skywalker told me to summon you; he also said to get a transport ready."

"For where?" her chief asked.

"I don't know," she replied, her face twisting in worry. "He just started cursing; he shouted 'Traitors!' and then told me to get you. He's in meditation with his Padawan right now, I think he's trying to contact Master Kenobi."

"Milady," Typho said, his face turning black with possibility, "If he feels there are traitors here then it's not safe to stay here, we need to get moving."

"We will," Padme reassured, rubbing the back of her neck. Her feet hurt. "Once Ani and Ahsoka come out of their meditation and we get an explanation we'll move. To where I don't know, but hopefully Ani will explain."

The conversation was over after that, Typho knew from years of experience that if Padme decided not to move, nothing could stop her until she took her own initiative. Silently, they both turned to the two Jedi kneeling on the floor of the apartment, waiting. Padme _hated_ waiting.

Anakin was already swearing when he came out of mediation, a hand shooting up to his forehead. Ahsoka frowned, a soft gasp in her mouth before she, too, held her head. "Master," she whimpered, "What's this feeling...?"

Anakin's face was black as thunder. "It's nothing, Snips," he ground out, his voice too low and too forced for his statement to be true. Padme clutched her façade of calm tightly to her chest and waited for the two Jedi to get to their feet. Anakin threw a glance at Padme, conveying all sorts of negative emotions, on top of warmth and love at seeing her safe, and reassurance that she was alive, before locking his gaze onto Typho.

His tones were clipped, and he was already walking out of the apartment, expecting everyone else to follow. "Long story short," he said, "the clones have just betrayed the Jedi. They shot at Obi-Wan and are attacking Jedi all throughout the galaxy."

The world stopped. For a very brief eternity, the entire _galaxy_ just _stopped_ and Padme could only _stare_ as the words sunk in. Anakin's back suddenly seemed so far away, something was pulling them apart and _she didn't understand what he was saying_. Only a small push at the small of her back, Typho urging her to keep moving, started the galaxy back up again, and suddenly she couldn't move fast enough, she dashed and waddled her way to her beloved's side, the four of them cramming into the lift with Threepio and Artoo; and the Senator wrapped her hands around his arm, his organic arm, looking up to his face. Anakin was staring at nothing, didn't even seem to notice her. She didn't think it was possible for his brows to knit any closer together, and his frown was so deep it nearly touched his jaw line. Every muscle Padme could touch was taught with tension, he was shaking with emotion.

Ahsoka faired little better, her eyes were wide as she, too, stared off at nothing, confusion coloring her face as she likely tried to process what she had just learned. Space, _Padme_ was still trying to process what she had just learned. It was almost too much to take in; what had _happened_ to make the clones turn on the Jedi? She knew a few clones, and what she didn't know was filled in with the many stories from Ani and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka at their dinners; they were _good_ people, _how did this happen_? Her mind was a whirl as the lift finally hit the right level and they all plowed out of the confining space.

Padme rushed to keep up with her husband, but he didn't pay her any mind; power walking to the transport that the two flank men from before were standing by. It was the Nubian carrier; that was for the best, perhaps; Padme couldn't be sure.

She couldn't be sure of anything.

Typho was giving orders to his men; they moved with a hurried but professional air as they were trained, escorting the worried Senator, the dazed Padawan, and the roiling Jedi up the ramp and into the ship. A piece of Padme's mind finally started working, and she pulled out her personal communicator, patching through to Bail on one of her encrypted channels.

"_Senator Amidala?_" his tiny hologram queried, looking up surprised.

"Bail," she said, dropping formality out of urgency. "Something's happened; Ani says the clones had turned on the Jedi."

Even reduced as his image was, his handsome face twisted in shock. "_What?_" he demanded. "_Who is Ani?_"

"Anakin Skywalker," Padme snapped, frustrated that she had to explain herself. They were wasting time; somehow, she could sense it. "Obi-Wan Kenobi at least is under attack, and Ani says the other Jedi are to. I don't know what this means, but you have to tell everyone in the Delegation. The fallout from this could be catastrophic and we need to be prepared for what might happen."

"_Yes, yes of course. What about you?_"

"It's not safe for me," she said quickly, her mind frantically trying to find a way to explain Anakin's vision of her death without giving away too many secrets - oh, to be honest for once! She kept following Anakin and Ahsoka through the narrow halls of the carrier, the claustrophobic atmosphere pressing in on her again. A thought finally pricked her mind, though, and she said, "The dinners I hold for the Jedi might put me in danger; Ani and Ahsoka are taking me somewhere safe. Once I am I'll call again-"

She realized, somehow, that she had gotten ahead of her incredibly fast husband. She couldn't figure it out at first; Padme had been dashing on sore feet for several minutes now to keep up with the Jedi's brusque pace, and yet now she was turning around to look behind her, twisting around Typho, to see why her beloved husband and Ahsoka had stopped.

What happened next made her openly afraid.

Anakin and Ahsoka both had come to a complete stop, both of them wide eyed, and Padme watched in horror as color drained from both of their faces. Anakin's face whitened so much it almost became translucent, the dark circles under his eyes from his lack of sleep and the deep creases of his brow making him look like a ghost. Ahsoka's warm orange skin paled to a sickly peach color. A single tear leaked from her large eyes.

"... the younglings..." she whispered.

To her left, a bright flash of light caught Padme's attention and slowly, as if pulled by something other than herself, she turned to look out a view port. The Temple could be clearly seen in the evening light, just on the horizon, and from inside it came a silent fireball, bright orange tinged with yellow, that disappeared into a black pillar of smoke.

"The Temple," she whispered, so detached she wasn't sure it was her voice, "They're attacking the Temple."

Ahsoka crumpled to the ground.

* * *

**Author's Note**: And we see another massive departure from canon. Really, at this point we don't want to say much, we just want to sit back and enjoy. Don't expect much of author's notes. We think we've pointed out enough things that you get what's going on. ^_^

Aside from that, several of you have commented on how Padme and Anakin think it's only one baby. There's a reason for that. Aside from being so prevalent in fanon that we think it might be canon, if the two want it to be a surprise and ask for a droid simply if the baby is okay, the droid will reply "Yes" and not elaborate, hence not knowing there were two.

Next week: Where Darkness Surges


	45. Where Darkness Surges

**Where Darkness Surges**

"_Padme? What's going on? Padme?_"

The Senator never heard Bail's voice, her communicator completely forgotten in her hand as she watched Ahsoka Tano, Padawan of her dear husband, be crushed by the weight of death that was pressing on her. Her pallor had gone from peach to almost pink, tears streaming down her cheeks as her legs simply gave out from under her. Padme might have cried out, she wasn't sure, her hands jerking forward to catch her friend but Anakin was already ahead of her; a powerful arm wrapping around his student, his Padawan, and easing her down to the ground. His entire body was sweating, his breathing coming out in short gasps and heaves; his hair was soaked.

"Ahsoka! Ani!" Padme breathed, trying to understand what they were feeling.

The Togrutan Padawan was inconsolable; she moaned and curled into herself, her tiny frame looking more and more like a child as she pulled herself into a fetal position, gripping her temples and rocking slightly back and forth. "Make it stop," she moaned, tears clutching her face and tainting her voice. "Master, make it stop!" She took in a great shuddering breath. "It hurts!"

"Sh, Ahsoka," Padme cooed, only dimly aware of the tears streaking down her own face as she watched her family suffering and was unable to do anything. She reached up and put a hand on the Padawan's wet cheek. "Sh, it'll be okay. It'll be okay."

"Noo," she moaned, sobbing. "Nooooo."

Helpless, Padme turned to her husband, lost in his own pain. "Ani!" she called, her hands full with lekku and montral. "Ani, help me!"

Something got through to him, Anakin suddenly snapped to attention, shaking his head slightly, and stared at the girls, _his_ girls. There was a Huttese curse and he bent down, a hand thrusting over to Ahsoka's trembling temple. "Shields, Snips!" he shouted, his eyes closing and bending even further forward, touching his forehead to hers. "Shields," he whispered. Padme guessed he was touching their bond, pushing and prodding what he needed to raise Ahsoka's shields to protect her from the empathic waves of the slaughter that was happening at the Temple. Space Padme didn't even want to _think_ about what that felt like.

When he finished, Anakin's eyes opened; dark and baggy and ugly, his eyes were so rimmed with red the color seemed to bleed into his usual crystal blue. That frightening gaze locked onto Padme, and the Senator hiccupped as she - insensitive, untouched she - felt the darkness swirling in her husband.

"Watch over her," he commanded, his voice two octaves lower than normal. "I'm going to the Temple."

Anakin stood to his full height, towering over the two women on the floor. It wasn't right, somehow, looking up at him, he looking down on her. He never looked _down_ on her, never down his nose, never with utter apathy; he always was looking into her, smiling at her, crying to and for her, always attentive to her every need, always needing to be reminded to think about his own needs once and a while. This... it wasn't... it wasn't _Anakin_.

Padme didn't think she could take anymore, but worse, he coldly turned around and she was suddenly watching his back again, retreating from her, going away from her; walking deliberately away from the people he cared about most, away from the family he loved more than anything, the world he'd promised he would protect.

"Don't!" she cried out, stumbling to her feet. "Anakin! Don't!" Something in her heart was shattering, and she had to stop it, stop it with everything that she was. "Anakin! Don't leave!"

He whirled around, his red, foreign eyes penetrating her. "They're _slaughtering_ the _younglings_!" he growled, the entire tiny hallway vibrating with his anger. "I have to stop them!"

"Ani, Ani please! You can't go!" she begged, outright _begged_, grabbing his shoulders and standing on her tiptoes, trying to get at eye level to him, frightening as his eyes were.

"I'm going to stop them," he said, "_I'm going to kill them._" And the room _rattled_ with his promise.

The narrow hallway was claustrophobic, she was too big for the thin space, it was hard to breath, but she pressed forward. "Anakin, please, you can't go! They'll kill you!"

His grin was malicious. "They _will_ try."

"_Anakin!_" she cried out. "Don't! You're vision! You weren't there! Don't leave Ahsoka alone! Don't leave _me_, don't leave _us_ alone!" Desperate, wanting it all to stop, she grabbed her husband's wrist and thrust it to her stomach, willing that he feel their kicking baby, that he see the stress that everyone was under, that he see just how much he was needed. Ahsoka was still moaning at their feet, rocking back and forth and bumping against the back of Padme's legs.

Her husband seemed to still slightly. His focus wasn't on her yet, but his eyes dropped down to his hand, unfocused, staring at their baby in what Padme could almost describe as confusion. She couldn't understand what was so confusing, she couldn't understand his red eyes, she couldn't understand _him_.

"Obi-Wan," she muttered, "Obi-Wan, help him. Please."

Wrong thing to say.

His entire face became as red as his eyes and the hand she was holding so tightly to the baby shot out, grabbing a wrist and lifting it over her head. "Obi-Wan?" he demanded. "_Obi-Wan_? _I'm_ your husband, why are you calling out to _him_?"

"Anakin... please," she gasped, shocked that he was doing this to her.

"_EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!_" he shouted to the top of his lungs, shoving her roughly and clutching his head.

Padme had long lost knowing what was happening in his head, and as she struggled to regain her balance Ahsoka, curled on the floor, interrupted her stumbling and she tripped over the poor Padawan. The world tilted as she fell, and for one horrifying moment Padme could only look over her shoulder at the floor and pray that her baby wouldn't be hurt from the fall. One arm was pinwheeling while the other she tried to angle to take the brunt of the fall, she only prayed that Anakin wouldn't blame himself for this if something happened.

A metal hand shot out and grabbed her flailing wrist in an durasteel grip, yanking her arm and subsequently herself out of the fall before wonderfully strong arms wrapped around her tiny frame, an angled chin and face burying into the crook of her neck. It happened so fast she wasn't quite sure what happened at first, but the trembling body holding her said enough, and she all too quickly wrapped him in a hug of her own.

"'re y' 'kay?" he mumbled into her shoulder, voice cracking.

"I'm fine, Ani," she whispered, kissing his exposed neck. "I'm fine now that you're back. You're _back_. Oh, Ani," she said, her own voice breaking. "You're back, that's all that matters."

Her husband started to sink to the floor, the energy of his all but disappearing, and Padme allowed herself to drop down with him, sinking to her knees and then her behind; it was awkward with Anakin wrapped around her, but she didn't care. His entire body was taught, trembling with tension and discontent. Her shoulder was getting wet, and she knew he was crying.

"My head," he confessed, "It's too full... The Jedi, all of them... the younglings... the _younglings..._ and Ahsoka and Obi-Wan and you... I have to help you... I have to stop the vision... but it's so hard to _think_..."

"Then don't think," Padme hushed, one hand stroking his hair while she dared to loose the other to touch Ahsoka. "Don't think, don't act, don't do anything else; just work through all the feelings. The rest can come later."

Some time later, there was a soft, "Milady?"

Padme looked up to see Typho, looking at the three of them sprawled on the floor of the narrow hallway, the Jedi clutching her in some way, and her in her own state of disarray. The pre-flight checks must have been completed, and he was looking for a destination. Padme was at a loss of what to tell him, but she spoke anyway.

"Get us into space," she said softly, glancing at her hurting family. "Get us as far away from the Temple and the death as possible."

"I have to file a flight plan," Typho said carefully, "we don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

"_I may have a suggestion,_" a voice said softly, and Padme openly startled as she look to the hand that had been stroking Ahsoka to see her communicator was still on.

"Bail?" she queried, shocked that he was still on the line.

His tiny hologram looked to her, his face a complex mix of emotions, but he nodded and Padme knew that he had heard everything. She wasn't sure she could completely process what "everything" was, but she knew that there was likely to be a long discussion later. That was fine. That was fine, because it meant that everyone was around when later actually happened.

"_I have a consular corvette out in the inner core,_" he said over the communicator, turning to face Typho. "_It called in recently speaking of 'navigational problems.' I'll be going there myself to see what is the matter, since you're out in space and 'in the area' you can board and see if there's anything you can do to help._"

"I understand," Typho said, nodding stiffly at the plan. "I'll file the flight plan." He spun on his heel and left.

Padme offered a watery smile. "Thank you, Bail," she said softly.

"_I can see the fire from my apartment,_" the other Senator said, "_even if I hadn't seen young Ahsoka's reaction I knew it couldn't be good._" They both paused when said Padawan suddenly moaned, her entire body shuddering as she murmured, "Master Plooooh." Padme reached over to stroke her montral again. Anakin suddenly gripped her very hard, and she did what she could.

"_Is she alright?_" he asked softly. His eyes flickered to her husband, and Padme knew he was asking about both.

"I think they're feeling everybody dying through the Force," she said softly, and as soon as she said that it became real. Her heart froze over, her eyes widening, and fresh tears started to streak down her face. "Bail," she sobbed, "The Jedi, they're all dying. Right now! Everywhere, across the galaxy, and I'm just sitting here. I'm running away!" She should have let Anakin go, she should have gone with him, blaster in hand and taken care of those clones! Anger filled every pore of her, and even as she shook her head at her thoughts on going to the Temple, she was already channeling her anger to something more constructive. "There's going to be an emergency session over this, right?" she asked slowly, her voice hardening.

"_Yes,_" Bail answered, already seeing where she was going.

"We need to be there," she said. "All of us, the entire Delegation. We need to see Palpatine's explanation for this. We need to see what he's going to do without the Jedi."

Bail's hologram nodded grimly. "_I've already contacted the others. I'll see you on the corvette in an hour or so_."

Padme nodded, and when the communicator finally flickered out, she looked up to the view port to see the stars had already filled its scope. They were out in space, and she could only hope the distance from Coruscant could help somehow.

She doubted it, but she still hoped.

* * *

Obi-Wan was hardly surprised when he arrived at the _Tantive IV_ and was promptly buried in hugs and relief that he was alright. Nor was he surprised at the tears given the overwhelming anger he'd felt from Anakin as younglings were slaughtered and Jedi perished across the galaxy. Even shielding and filtering as much as he could, the distance from the Temple didn't matter as his former Padawan had dropped all of _his_ filters in shock.

He gave himself another moment to quietly grieve.

Anakin had promptly dragged him to the small infirmary of the ship to have him checked out, despite Obi-Wan's insistence that he was fine.

"You were knocked out and almost _drowned_, you're _not_ fine until the healer says so."

And after feeling the Light fade and the Darkness strengthen, Obi-Wan couldn't begrudge him that. Neither could Padme, it seemed, as Anakin insisted she be checked out, despite an appointment three days prior where she was fine.

Once Anakin was satisfied they were all fine, they sat in a small conference room.

For a while, it was just silent, all of them sitting there. So much had happened in such a short time. They were still processing all of it.

Obi-Wan took a breath and broke the silence. "Bail, I take it you now know everything."

The Senator gave a wan smile. "I must say it was a bit of a surprise."

Padme gave a small chuckle.

"We've been called to an emergency session," Bail continued.

"We need to be there," Padme stated firmly, looking to her husband.

"Angel, it's too dangerous..."

"I agree; they should go," Obi-Wan stated.

"Why?" Anakin growled.

"It will give us a chance to sneak into the Temple."

"What?" Ahsoka gasped, still incredibly pale.

"You haven't checked the Jedi channels, have you?"

Everyone shook their heads. Obi-Wan nodded. He doubted they were in any frame of mind to. "The signal from the Temple is that the war is over and to come home."

"No," Ahsoka whimpered. "It's a trap! They'll be killed like everyone else!"

"Which is why we'll be there, Snips," Anakin replied, already getting Obi-Wan's plan. "We'll change that."

Though still pale, the Togrutan Padawan nodded with determination.

Typho stepped forward. "Milady, it's too dangerous for you."

"I'm going," she replied as firmly as before.

Anakin reached out holding her hand. "Then keep a healer with you. Just in case."

"Ani..." she nodded. "I'll come right back here after the session." She narrowed her eyes. "I'll be waiting for you. So you'd best get back. And in one piece."

Obi-Wan dipped his head as Anakin seemed to just radiate with his love for her.

"I'll have my people try to intercept any Jedi on their way here," Bail offered.

"Thank you," all three Jedi replied.

* * *

Ahsoka wiped another wave of tears from her eyes as they looked down to the Temple. It was strange being back here. It seemed like centuries since they'd hurried off of Coruscant as everything she ever knew and loved died in the span of an eternity. Smoke was still drifting lazily up, but aside from the fires, one wouldn't know there had been a massacre inside. The walls still reflected the late afternoon sun, the spires still cast long shadows. It looked... normal.

But it didn't _feel_ normal. The Temple was always a feeling of home and calm in the Force. Glowing gently with safety and protection. Now, it was marred with Darkness. There was no inviting feeling. And though people in brown robes still crossed open promenades and near the entrances, they were not Jedi. And one couldn't ignore the fires that burned.

This wasn't right.

This _wasn't_ right.

That had been her home! That _was_ her home!

And now it felt like a mere shell of its former self.

And they were going to go inside.

She couldn't stop the shudder.

A heavy dark brown robe draped itself around her shoulders, and Ahsoka looked back to see her master looking down at her as he arranged his robe around her.

The affectionate gesture warmed Ahsoka's aching heart and she took a deep breath to compose herself again.

"Main entrance, or one of the docking bays?" Anakin turned to Obi-Wan.

The Jedi Master let out a long sigh. "I suppose it does not matter. You realize they will attack as soon as the see us?"

"Yes," Anakin replied quietly.

Obi-Wan merely nodded.

This was unacceptable for Ahsoka. "You're just going to kill any clone in our way?" she swiftly turned to them.

Anakin looked down at her, his exhausted eyes showing the briefest flickers of red. "They aren't exactly our friends right now, Snips," he replied.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "It will be the will of the Force. If we can avoid fighting, very well. If we can't, then we must defend ourselves."

Ahsoka shook her head, fresh tears coming to her eyes _again_. She was sick of crying. "But we _can't_! That'd be revenge wouldn't it? That's the Darkside!"

Anakin put a hand on her shoulder, letting out along breath. "At worst, it would be justice. And it would be the choice of the clones."

"We avoid taking life Ahsoka, but there are times were we can't," Obi-Wan agreed.

"_No_!" she cried. The grief was overwhelming her again. This was all too much. "That's the _Temple_! There's been enough death in there! And you want to add _more_? Justice or not, will of the Force or not, we _can't_!" she wailed. "The clones..." Ahsoka hiccupped, "we thought of them as sentient beings. And they're sentient, and they're beings, but they've been programmed to always follow orders. If ever anyone gives them an order, they don't have a choice, they must obey!" She looked down. "And we'd kill them for doing their duty. They same way they've killed us for doing our duty. That's just _wrong_! And messed up! And... and..." her knees gave out under her as she couldn't swallow her sobs any longer.

This was all just so _wrong_. So very wrong. _No more death... Please..._ Because even if they were clones, she didn't think she could take any more.

Arms were suddenly around her and she willed away her tears as best she could. There would be time for crying _later_. They needed to save any Jedi who lived and was coming home to the Temple and find out what was going on.

... Even if that meant... killing...

Another sob escaped her. The arms around her tightened.

And there was a sob that wasn't her own.

Blinking away tears, she looked up to see her own master crying. But that didn't make sense... unless.

"I'm sorry, Master," she mumbled. "I don't mean to project so much."

Obi-Wan crouched beside them, hesitated a moment, before wrapping his arms around the two of them. "Jedi are allowed to feel, young one. And after everything today? We all have a lot of feeling we need to do."

Anakin nodded, leaning into Obi-Wan's embrace. "As Jedi we feel, but we have to put the feelings away when we need to. Putting all of this away for a while? It won't be easy. Take all the time you need, Snips."

Ahsoka nodded, burying her face into Anakin's neck and just taking a moment to feel secure in their arms. It was with great difficulty that she wrestled her feelings. She would _not_ let her master down with this. She may be a Padawan, she may not be as skilled, but she _was_ a warrior and a veteran combatant. She knew that she needed focus or she would fail.

But the thought of feeling another death...

"Then we won't kill anyone," Anakin soothed, their bond alive with calming and shared grief, and support. "We'll go into the Temple another way."

"And what way would that be?" Obi-Wan asked with curiosity.

Anakin only grinned. It was still a somewhat sad grin. But it was nice to see anything to smile about.

"It'll get us in without being noticed. Anything after that will be distractions or mind-tricks."

Obi-Wan nodded. "We'll need to shield. Heavily. This is going to be traumatic, no matter what we do," he sat back, releasing them from his hug to rub his beard. "The last thing we need is all of us distracting each other with what we're going to be seeing in there."

Ahsoka wasn't entirely sure she wanted that. She knew she was clinging to Anakin's presence and she wasn't sure she could quite let go at the moment. But this bond was still new. She'd gone for a long time without knowing that they could do this, she merely needed to go back to that.

Retreating into her own mind, she looked to her bond and shielded it with everything she could throw at it. Anakin had taught her well, after all. She was surprised she could still sense him, and quite clearly. But it was quiet. No words, just feelings. She nodded to herself. That would have to do.

"Are you sure you can handle this, Snips?"

Ahsoka wasn't sure. Not at all. But she pulled out of Anakin's hug anyway. With a watery smile, she gestured toward the burning Temple. "Lead the way, Master."

* * *

Yoda reached out with the Force to alter a dial he could not reach in the small, but Wookie-designed ship. His heart was nothing more than a permanent ache now that almost all the Jedi of the galaxy were gone. Dead. At one with the Force. And while he could rejoice that it had been swift, the fact that so many were now gone... it just hurt.

The tiny Jedi took another deep breath and acknowledged the pain for what it was, and let go.

Though the grief would need to be dealt with, there were more pressing matters. If clones were attacking Jedi, then the Temple was likely in danger, if not already taken. Indeed, the signal from the Temple broadcasted that the war was over and to come home. That did not sit well in the Force, so Yoda knew he needed to go and save whatever Jedi remained. They would need to hide. Regroup somehow, and assess what was going on.

They had been blind too long.

It was time to do something about it.

But Yoda would not know what until he found another Jedi to discuss things.

He had been trying to reach other Jedi across all Jedi frequencies but there was no response.

Unsurprising.

Saddening. But unsurprising.

"_Master Yoda, is that really you_?"

The tiny master blinked, looking at a small hologram appear of Senator Organa.

"Senator," Yoda greeted, not sure how he felt about this. Organa had often been a friend of the Jedi, though more conservative and reserved about it than how blatantly Senator Amidala supported them. But with no information and having already been blindsided by clones he'd thought he could trust, Yoda was weary to say more. "A most unexpected surprise to reach you, this is, on this channel."

Organa nodded. "_Master Kenobi gave it to me before... I'd best not say more. I have a consular ship, the Tantive IV in orbit trying to stop Jedi from landing on Coruscant. Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker left a message for any Jedi who come on the ship, just in case._" The small hologram glanced around. "_I must be on my way before they realize I'm talking to a Jedi._" Organa looked at the tiny master with great sorrow and sympathy. "_Be safe, Master Yoda. Stars above, enough have died. Be _safe_._"

Yoda nodded, cutting the transmission and easily finding the corvette that Organa had mentioned in a distant orbit. The ship's captain, a cleft-chinned human, efficiently got Yoda onboard quietly and to a conference room. There, the two sat.

"Master Yoda," the captain greeted.

"Captain Antilles," Yoda greeted. "Understand, I do, that information you have."

The man was a trained diplomat, and nothing showed on his face as he nodded, but Yoda felt great turmoil inside.

Antilles stood, giving a bow. "Master Yoda, as you are probably already aware, the clones have turned on the Jedi. They marched on the Temple." Antilles stood straight, looking forward without looking at anything. He delivered his information levelly and professionally. "We took Knight Skywalker, his Padawan, Senator Amidala and her chief of security on board when they were fleeing."

Yoda nodded. No doubt the two had been at one of the young Senator's dinners that she hosted for Jedi who were interested. It spared them, for which Yoda was grateful. Enough had fallen. Yet it put Amidala in danger, which he regretted to do to such a fine person.

"Master Yoda," Antilles hesitated. "I've never seen anything like it. There was no mark upon Knight Skywalker or his Padawan, but both were crying out in pain. Padawan Tano was nearly catatonic. Senator Amidala informed us that the two were feeling the death of all the Jedi in the galaxy. The younglings in the Temple, the Knights out on missions. Everywhere."

Yoda heard the question. It was inconceivable that the Jedi could have been wiped out so thoroughly. And yet, now the Jedi were all but extinct. Yoda had no way of knowing how many Jedi still lived, but their Order had gone from thousands strong, to few in the span of an hour, depending on how long some of the Jedi held out or how the clones had set up their ambushes.

With a heavy sigh, he replied, "Understandable it is, for them to suffer so. Closer they were when attacked the Temple was. Sense strongly the death they would." Because the Darkside could transmit pain and suffering so easily and the Force was almost choked with Darkness.

Antilles nodded, quailing inside at the injustice of what had just happened, but maintaining his professional air. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small cube. "Master Kenobi left this and instructed me to give it to any Jedi who we were able to intercept."

Yoda took the small holocron.

"I'll leave you to it," Antilles bowed and left the room.

The tiny master held the holocron, merely looking into its depths for a moment. A holocron encoded the cognitive networks of whoever left the recording, essentially leaving a living breathing memory of a person and their feelings and knowledge at a particular time in their lives. Jedi used holocrons to record techniques and histories. Obi-Wan had not done that. This was not a holocron for knowledge or learning. This was a holocron for warning.

Yoda allowed a moment of sadness that a holocron was used this way. Then he reached for the small cube through the Force, turning crystals and inverting patterns until it was no longer a cube.

"_Ah, Master Yoda,_" Obi-Wan greeted, his eyes watery. "_I am surprised that you are the first to access me._"

"Grateful I am, that still alive you are."

The holographic Obi-Wan nodded, a hand coming up to brush the tears threatening to fall. "_Forgive me, Master Yoda. This has been a long day. I was recorded with great haste. As such, my feelings haven't been properly sorted._"

Yoda nodded, knowing that Obi-Wan's large and caring heart would be a great source of hurting during this difficult time. Indeed, Yoda himself wasn't free of the ache of loss. "Understand I do. But time, I doubt we have. Please, tell me what you've planned."

Obi-Wan ran a hand roughly through his hair. "_I'm afraid not much at the moment, Master. I am currently on my way back to the Temple with Anakin and Ahsoka to alter the Temple beacon. We are aiming to tell any remaining-_" Obi-Wan paused. "_Tell the Jedi to run and hide. The Chancellor has called an emergency meeting in the Senate, and that is where most of the security should be, making now the ideal time to do so._"

"A meeting, you say?"

"_Yes. According to Bail and Padme, it will likely be 'evidence' on why we needed to be wiped out like a disease._" Obi-Wan paused, running a hand through his beard. "_Forgive me, Master. That was uncalled for._"

Yoda waved it aside. "And after? What plans have you?"

Obi-Wan let out a deep sigh, both hands rubbing at his eyes. "_So much depends. At the very least, we'll be meeting up with Padme on this ship again. From there? Pool information. Go into hiding. Try and figure out who this damned Sith is._"

Yoda frowned. He had figured out who the Sith was as soon as the clones had attacked. For clones would ever follow an order. And the only being in the galaxy who had a higher command than the Jedi with the clones was Chancellor Palpatine. "Know not you, who the Sith is, after all that has happened?"

The hologram shook his head. "_No, master. Dooku commented that it was someone close to the Chancellor. I believe Anakin burst into an interview with him this morning, but I don't know all the details of it._" Obi-Wan paused, a hand covering his mouth. "_Stars, was that really this morning?_" The holographic image sniffed. "_I was too busy with Grievous most of the day. Anakin might have a better idea of things._" Obi-Wan looked around. "_I miss having him in my mind. This recording apparently doesn't include our bond and it's so _silent_ without him. For all I know his vis-_" Obi-Wan stopped, looking down.

Yoda waited patiently. Young Anakin had appeared to have had a vision, and he was most curious as to what it was. But Obi-Wan wasn't saying.

Hmmm.

"A vision, you say?" Yoda prompted.

Obi-Wan looked around, rubbing at his tears again. "_That,_" he said in the firm voice of a Master and a Councilor, "_is not mine to share. Talk to me, Master. More importantly, talk to Anakin. You hurt him all those years ago when you did not condone my training of him. And he can't bring himself to trust you completely because of it. If you wish to know, you must earn that trust. I have urged him to speak of things to you._" Obi-Wan sighed again, shoulders slumping. "_Before I arrived, I was able to get Anakin to think about telling you, which is more than he's ever agreed to before. But the rest, I believe, is up to you._"

"If so important this is, tell me you should," Yoda replied calmly.

"_No Master. Not this. You do not have Anakin's trust. I understand why. But _I_ have his trust. His loyalty. He _knows_ I will drop whatever I'm doing to go help him if he requires, and he will do the same for me. I may be but a recording, and a highly stressed one at that, but I _am_ Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am a piece of him in a moment of time. I will not betray my old Padawan like that. We have worked too hard to get past a great deal of failings of the Jedi. And yes, master, I _did_ say failings. Maybe it's because I am still feeling so much that I can say this freely. But there are teachings of the Jedi that are _wrong_. I've been thinking about them for some time now but haven't been able to get past how I was raised. This, today... If the Jedi survive, something _must_ change._"

Yoda sighed. "Speaking from attachment, you are," he said quietly. "The Jedi, not perfect we are, but successful we have been for a thousand generations. Wisdom, there is, in what we have taught for so long."

Obi-Wan frowned. "_I do not deny that. We have lived for a long time. But survival does _not_ equate to success. We have failed. There are so many things that Anakin is much wiser in than a Jedi could ever hope to be. Just as he has learned from me, I have learned much from him. You are clearly not ready to hear this. I have made a promise to Anakin that it is his to tell, and I will support his decision. As such, no, Master Yoda. I will not tell you. I can only advise. I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, but not the _real_ Obi-Wan Kenobi. That choice is his and his alone. The same way it is Anakin's._"

Yoda frowned.

Obi-Wan sighed again. "_Wait for us here. We shouldn't be long. Then, perhaps, we can make some informed decisions. Now turn me off. I have nothing else that I can say._"

The tiny master complied, rearranging the holocron back to its original cube shape and sat back, letting things be.

He did not agree with Obi-Wan. Or at least, this holocron-Obi-Wan that was still feeling the loss of so many Jedi. Things needed to be changed, yes, so that the Jedi would not be blindsided again. But the Jedi had perfected, or at least streamlined much of what they did to great efficiency.

Yoda shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on this. Palpatine was meeting with the Senate. When the meeting was over, before time had been given for Palpatine to finish consolidating his rule, was a good time.

With heavy shoulders and a heavier heart, Yoda left the conference room to find Captain Antilles. He needed to get down to Coruscant.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Poor Ahsoka. And Go Holocron!Obi-Wan!

Next week: Sneaking into the Temple, Dooku, and the Death of Liberty


	46. Where Sidious is Revealed

**Where Sidious is Revealed**

The way they took was definitely enough to distract Ahsoka from everything that had been threatening to overwhelm her. She had no _idea_ that the Temple maintenance was lit and guided by some sort of phosphorescent compound that labeled every wire and pipe throughout the darkness. After Force-jumping up to some sort of tunnel at the side of the Temple, they'd climbed up to a corridor of pitch black, lit only by writing all over everything, with arrows on the floor to what could be anywhere in the Temple! It was even all color-coded!

"Master," she said in awe, "how did you _know_ about this?"

Obi-Wan only groaned.

"I did a report on it."

Ahsoka blinked in the darkness. "For what class?"

Anakin chuckled.

"Here and now, my old Padawan. We can't stay in these tunnels forever. And," he added ruefully, "no one knows about sneaking around the Temple like you do."

"What?" Anakin replied, his tone completely unrepentant.

It was such a nice dose of _normalcy_ Ahsoka teared up. Again. She scrubbed at her eyes and sniffled, but pushed the feelings aside.

They were out into the halls of the Temple quickly. And what they saw made Ahsoka feel like throwing up.

There were bodies everywhere. Charred corpses, still burning, left a repugnant smell in the air as the three of them slipped between Masters, Knights, Padawans, and _younglings_, all dead on the floor, some in pieces.

Anakin looked down at one point, to the limbless torso of Cin Drallig, the greatest saber-master the Temple had, one who could teach any of the seven Forms. "This wasn't just clones," he growled.

Nothing more could really be said, and they moved on from there.

Any clones they came across were easily distracted. As long as Ahsoka didn't focus on the floors, she could almost think of it as a game, to make the clones think the Temple was haunted by all who had been killed.

That would be ironic.

But she didn't dwell on the thought. To do so would send her into a place of sorrow that would more likely get her killed.

They were going down a hall when Anakin stopped, sucking in a breath sharply.

"We can't go this way Master."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I see little other choice. The other paths are too congested with clones and too circular. We can't linger here long. The Senate meeting will be getting out soon."

"Master, that's one of the clan crèches we'll have to go through."

Obi-Wan's gaze was weighed down with great sadness. "I know."

Suddenly, Ashoka was overwhelmed again, tears threatening to fall, but she took a deep breath, scrubbing at her eyes again. This would be difficult. She just... couldn't look down. Look through and focus on the door. Don't look down. Don't look to a crib. She could _do_ this.

She couldn't. But she would anyway.

It was to all of their surprise, to find a large number of clone bodies in the crèche. And the body of Count Dooku. It took her a moment to fully realize what she was looking at. Master Plo... She shook her head, refusing to shy away from the thought. Master Plo had taught her how to analyze the carnage of a battlefield, explaining that one could often determine the story of a fight from the destruction it had wrought. During the war, Ahsoka had learned how to tell which craters from explosions came first, what wounds came from certain types of blasters, how to ascertain roughly who fell first and how. Looking in the crèche room, staring at the bodies, she started to see what had happened.

Dooku had escaped. She didn't even pretend to understand how that happened, but he had. Any number of possibilities was attached to that thought - wrecking havoc through the Temple, escaping unnoticed to plot revenge, watching the massacre in enjoyment. He was unarmed, was amputated, he had no means with which to be aggressive.

The clones, their bodies were scattered throughout the crèche; they did not sport lightsaber wounds; but they were marred with other marks. Scorch marks, but not from blasters, the scent of burnt hair, but no signs of fire. She knew these marks, and Ahsoka also knew that if she tried to move the bodies they would be stiff - but not from rigor mortis. They would be stiff because their bones were filled with calcium deposits.

A side effect of Sith lightning.

They had died by the hands of a Sith.

And a Sith was lying in the room.

Her eyes widened as she finally realized that Dooku had killed the clones. All of them. Her gaze snapped back to the old man, his body riddled with blaster burns, a fierce snarl on his lips; his eyes were still open. Behind him were the cribs, all pushed up against a wall as if by a Force push. His body was indelibly between the cribs or the clones. Had he...? Had he...?

She watched as Obi-Wan knelt down by the body, his face utterly closed off.

"Master Qui-Gon..." he whispered, "He never spoke of you. I wonder if something happened that hurt him. But your actions here, now..." The Jedi Master reached down and slowly, his hands gently covering Dooku's face, closing his open eyes. Ahsoka realized too late that they were no longer the red-gold color of a Sith, but their natural dark brown color. She had never seen it before. "In the end," he said, "You died a Jedi." Obi-Wan drew back, closing his own eyes and tilting his head back. The three of them stood there, over his body, in stark silence.

Ahsoka was confused, she didn't know what to feel with this discovery, couldn't decide how to react, and so she stood mute, staring at the sight and hoping she could sort herself out later. If there ever was a later. If there ever was a way to sort _any_ of this out. She looked to her master for guidance, but his face was almost as closed off as Obi-Wan's. Only the bloodshot red of his eyes seemed to stand out, and he frowned fiercely at the scene. Perhaps he was as confused as she was. She shook her head slightly, mad that she couldn't process this the way Obi-Wan was.

The older master stood, finally, and took a deep breath. "Let's go," he said softly.

It was almost a straight shot from the crèche to the library - where it was everything Ahsoka could do to stay standing when she saw the body of Jocasta Nu. Filled with emotion, she almost blindly followed her master and Obi-Wan into the sealed archives where the holocrons were. Obi-Wan sealed the room with a wave of the Force, and only then did he and Anakin breath a sigh of relief. They were safe, for the moment.

Ahsoka took a moment and sunk to her knees; she was fully aware that it was childish to do so, they didn't have time for childish gestures, and yet she clung to the fact that her master said nothing, instead letting her put her head in her hands and just feel like a kid, a youngling, way out of her element and petrified over what would happen next. She took several shuddering breaths, fighting off her tears. Only a little more, she told herself, just a little more and you can leave and forget that this ever happened, _pretend_ that it never happened.

"It did happen, Snips," Anakin said in a dark voice. "And it would be wrong to forget or pretend that it didn't."

She looked up, a little startled, but her master wasn't looking at her, instead filing through the holocrons. He pulled out one, studying it, before putting it back. "We have to face this," he continued, softer, almost like he was talking to himself. "We have to face this... If we don't, then no one else will..." He bent his head, running a hand viciously through his hair, before cursing and getting back to work. He was struggling too, it seemed, and Ahsoka felt better knowing that she wasn't alone. Enough that she closed her eyes and worked on her shields, wanting to spare her master more of her pain. Time for that would come later.

Obi-Wan was a marvel, in the meantime. His steps were even and sure, his face was calm and unmarred as he walked about the halls with the knowledge of one who had done so often as he pulled out certain holocrons, adjusted what he needed, and replaced them, repeating the process over and over. Finally, he stood at a circular holotable and tapped lightly on the screens, inputting the data he needed. It was only there he paused, taking a deep breath to understand the weight of his move, and hit a confirm key.

"It's done," he said softly. Even his voice was even and devoid of the pain he _must_ be feeling. Ahsoka came up and stared, envious of his self-control. "The signal has changed to scatter and hide, and I've altered the encryption keys. Even assuming the clones figure out the signal has been changed, they'll be hard pressed to change it without intimate knowledge of Jedi sutras."

Anakin stepped forward, a holocron in his hand. Without a word he shoved the crystal into an open port and started calling on functions.

"Anakin, are you certain you want to see that?" Obi-Wan asked. Ahsoka remembered that they could never be completely silent to each other, and she dared to send her perceptions to her master. He was swirling with dark emotions but his presence was curiously neutral.

"Even though I saw the evidence, I can't bring myself to believe it," Anakin replied, loading up his holocron. "I need to see it myself. I don't know if I can forgive him like you did, but I need to _know_."

Ahsoka suddenly realized what she was about to watch, and her eyes widened as the holo-recording flickered to life.

The clones were efficient. They always were. They also knew exactly what a Jedi was capable of, especially-

"Rex?" she asked, staring at the tiny figure.

Anakin's shields were slipping, she could hear a string of curse words as the three of them watched the slaughter.

"He used the five-oh-first," Anakin muttered, his eyes darkening, the red lining under them bleeding into his eyes. "The Sith used _my_ troops to assault the Temple." Pain exploded in her head and Ahsoka's hands shot to her temples. She wasn't ready for this; she wasn't ready to feel this all over again. She gave a soft cry as she tilted to one side, a foot instinctively shooting out to steady herself. Then, as suddenly as it came, it disappeared, faded to a dull throb as her master fixed his shields. She looked up a little tentatively, his black face and his red eyes glaring fiercely at the table before tapping a key and fast-forwarding the recording.

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan started.

"Not now," was the growled reply.

Ahsoka looked back to the holograms, images flickering back and forth until the Jedi found what he was looking for, reducing the speed to a normal playback.

"_So you've finally revealed yourself, 'Master,'_" Dooku, escaped somehow, appeared in the clan room they had found his body. His blue form stood tall; a wave of the hand sent the cribs back against the wall. He was surrounded by a semicircle of clones, blasters raised and ready to end him.

"_And so have you._" A second figure was there, cloaked in black and hooded. She couldn't see his face, but his voice sounded familiar. A glance up showed Obi-Wan's face drain of color. Anakin remained motionless, his red eyes brightening to orange. The pressure on her mind started to build.

"_Tell me,_" Dooku asked, "_Have you managed to turn my replacement? I've yet to see the boy fully succumb to the Darkside."_

_ "Oh, he will. I have foreseen it."_

_ "And have you foreseen this, then?"_

_ "You know better than anyone how far I can see. And yet you still betrayed me."_

_ "Passing me over for a whelp of a boy with no self-discipline; yes, I would say that _you_ betrayed _me_. And now you parade about the Temple slaughtering children."_

_ "My dear Tyrannus, I didn't realize you would spare your future enemies."_

If possible, the small hologram of Dooku straightened even more. "_I was willing to change the galaxy. I was willing to do what was necessary and what the Jedi couldn't see. But do not think that meant I would sacrifice my principals. In that respect, you and I are very different. Children can be trained to Sith. Yet you would kill them. Idiotic."_

_ "Then we are at an impasse,_" the hooded voice replied, raising a pale hand. Ahsoka leaned forward, trying to see under the cowl. "_See how you fare, unarmed as you are."_

The holotable exploded into motion, the clones opening fire left and right, light flaring everywhere. Dooku remained unharmed, however, the blasts missing him by inches, and yet they never touched the cribs either. He lifted a stump of an arm, and lightning exploded from it, electrocuting the entire room of clones. The speakers were inundated with sounds of screams, and then just like that it was over, troopers falling to the floor, wisps of digitized smoke filling the air.

It left just the two of them.

"_The farce if over,"_ Dooku said calmly.

"_Yes, it is._"

The Sith opened with a flare of lightning, Dooku doing the same.

* * *

Obi-Wan turned off the recording quickly. They didn't need to see the rest of the fight; Dooku had fought valiantly and watching him be tortured before his death as he still tried to defend the younglings was not worth burning into his or anyone else's retinas. There had been enough burned into them in the last twelve hours to last the rest of his life. He stared blankly at the interface, struggling to reconcile what the three of them had just learned. That voice was unmistakable. The Sith Lord was no less that Palpatine himself.

Obi-Wan stared at the interface because he knew if he even tried to think of anything else, he would go utterly insane. The only thing he could imagine that could be worse was discovering that Anakin was the Sith; and looking at it that way he blessed his good fortune. There was good fortune in this, there _had_ to be; there just _had_ to be. Turning the images over in his mind, he realized that Dooku, in his way, had given them something - information, however minimal, on how Palpatine fought. That would be useful; yes, that would be very useful. Yes, coming here was a blessing; it was...

Stars above, it was _Palpatine_.

He closed his eyes, a hand rubbing over his forehead, raking it through his hair and then over his beard. It made so much _sense_; so much it was scary. It all clicked into place and suddenly the last fifteen years spun into sharp focus, and Obi-Wan could point out almost every move Palpatine had done to undermine the power of the Jedi Council, solidify his seat as Supreme Chancellor - even become Supreme-

He was behind the crisis on Naboo.

He was the master to _him_. The Zabrak that killed Qui-Gon.

The memory hit him completely by surprise, and he didn't have enough mental fortitude left to set it aside. He saw the red energy, his master kneeling on the floor, gathering himself. He saw the tattooed Zabrak. He saw the fight, he saw the blows, he saw the clip to the jaw, he saw the stab, he saw the _look on his master's face_, and he _felt the pain_ all over again. Obi-Wan took a deep shuddering breath, accepting the memory and acknowledging that he would never be able to change it, letting go of the tragedy of that day and putting it away for later.

Managing this, however, was difficult beyond measure, because he was suffering the one great strength and great drawback of having such a deep bond with his apprentice. He saw everything going on in Anakin's mind.

It was a testament of how far his former student had come that his shields and filters were still up and tightly wrapped around himself - one whimper from Ahsoka and he hadn't slipped since. But Anakin's bond with his Padawan paled in comparison to his bond with his former Master. Anakin was filled with black cloud of negative emotions - anger, betrayal, anguish, others that were hard to sense without the filters lowered. He was almost physically shaking with the darkness surrounding him. Space, his eyes were _orange_. Their bond was congested with the negative attitude and it gave Obi-Wan a nearly unbearable headache. Focus was difficult; the Jedi Master could hardly imagine what it was like for Anakin.

"Do you know how close you are to the Darkside?" he asked once he'd put away his thoughts of his master. He needed his full focus for this.

Anakin said nothing, still glaring at the empty holotable. Had he even heard?

Obi-Wan tried again. "Did you know your eyes are nearly as yellow as Dooku's?"

An orange eye twitched.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan gently prodded, matching his words and tone with the pushes he was doing along the bond. "Do you see the road you are walking?"

Nothing. Obi-Wan almost wished the Jedi would throw one of his tantrums, at least then he would expend all his energy and they could move on to rational conversation. He didn't like that Anakin was holding all of this in; it wasn't healthy.

Obi-Wan took another deep breath, reaching out and wrapping a hand around the taught arm muscles, closing his eyes and narrowing his focus. He knew it was going to hurt, but he needed Anakin back, and so he dropped all his filters on their bond, taking his emotions and piercing it through Anakin's: his worry, his vision of Anakin at that moment, his unceasing headache, his fear for Anakin's mental wellbeing. In doing so, he also dropped his defenses against Anakin's negativity, and it was like he'd fallen into a planet of lava. The darkness was absolute, hot and vicious and sharp and painful. It breached his mind, _burned_, invading it in a way Anakin never would have. It broke trust, broke faith, broke _pieces of their bond_, and Obi-Wan could only moan, swaying on his feet as it felt like everything would be turned upside down and inside out.

Then, just like that, it all disappeared, and the arm he had been gripping was now holding his; and when his eyes blearily opened he saw Anakin's face.

Blue eyes... Ah, at last...

Anakin's face crunched up, pain stretching every line to the extreme.

"Master...?" he asked weakly, his voice cracking.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed, taking another deep breath and tipping his head down, touching his forehead to Anakin's in a way they had once done, oh, it seemed like a lifetime ago. "Let go of the fear." It was all he could say; they had had this conversation - this meditation - over and over again, and this was a stark endorsement of why his former Padawan had to let it go. Another moment like this and Obi-Wan openly feared what would become of this man who was so intimately tied to him.

Anakin nodded, but Obi-Wan could feel the resistance, the conflict, and he knew nothing would be done. All he could do was sigh, closing his eyes and pulling his focus back together. The headache was gone now that the darkness was no longer active in Anakin, and Obi-Wan pulled himself - themselves - together.

"Let's get back to the corvette. The emergency session is likely over by now and we need to tell Bail and Padme what we've learned."

Just that small mention dropped a shadow over Anakin's face, and Obi-Wan knew it was only a matter of time before Anakin fell completely.

He prayed he could stop it.

* * *

Padme sat back, her heart somewhere down below her stomach. "So this is how liberty dies. With thunderous applause."

It hurt.

It really, really hurt.

Palpatine was someone she had relied on and trusted for so many years, over a decade. He had been a kindly uncle that had been at her service when she pleaded her case about the disaster with the Trade Federation before Chancellor Valorum. He'd had advice and ideas and was always there for anyone who stepped into his office, either as Chancellor or Senator. He even remembered birthdays, like those of her nieces. "Nothing is too small for a beloved queen, even a retired one, such as yourself." And she had believed it to be genuine.

What a fool she was.

Looking at him, after listening to hours of "evidence" that he'd been presenting _all day long_ of a Jedi conspiracy (_out of the question!_) seeing him use his scars and disfigurement to garner sympathy and support... seeing him declare himself _Emperor_...

It had been an act. All those years had been an act. There was nothing genuine about him. No sincerity. Everything he did was a calculated act to get what he wanted when he wanted.

The man she respected, despite how his policies had been going lately, was a sham.

It hurt.

And when Anakin realized this, he'd be hurt even more.

Because while Anakin didn't hold Palpatine as family the same way he did for Obi-Wan, there was no denying Anakin's loyalty. And for anyone to break that loyalty would be to break a part of her beloved husband.

Really, was there anything else that could hurt her husband any more?

Padme sat up straight, looking at Palpatine again. His hood covered his face, but from her lower angle, she looked at him. Really looked at him.

And even from this distance, she could see golden eyes.

Padme was not one given to cursing or swearing. But she used every word she knew, borrowed many from Anakin, and created a few for this specific occasion.

Yes, there _was_ something that could hurt her husband. And it would be so much _worse_.

Mon Mothma was already talking. "We need to start consolidating Senators. Not just our delegation. We need to create a voting block to _stop_ this." Bail was already nodding.

"No," Padme said firmly, turning to face them. "You _must_ vote with anything he says. Because if you don't; you'll likely disappear. He won't tolerate _any_ opposition. Especially open opposition. You need to resist in a different way."

Mon blinked. "Don't you mean we?"

She shook her head, looking down. "I don't think I'll live long enough."

Mon paled, no doubt thinking of all the dinners Padme had hosted for Jedi who needed a break.

Bail, however, was looking at her differently. He'd overheard and knew a great deal. She still didn't quite know how much of everything, but the way he was looking...

"The vision," he said quietly.

Padme nodded. "He's been doing everything and will do anything he can to stop it. But..." she trailed off, looking to Palpatine again. If that man... that Sith... Sidious... had played _both_ sides of the war like a child played with toys, then she wasn't sure anything her husband could do would stop her death. Even if she survived childbirth, Sidious would likely find another way.

Unless she faked her death.

Something to consider.

"Milady." The healer that Anakin had insisted follow her (oh, what a good idea that was... who knew what Sidious was planning), leaned forward, dressed as a handmaiden. "All things considered, I think we should be on our way."

"Yes." Because she'd be safer up on the _Tantive IV_ than Coruscant. And once Anakin and the others arrived, they could go to Naboo first. Plan. Look at things. Because this was still so much to take in and she would _not_ do anything rash.

She wanted to raise her child with Anakin, and she would do whatever it took to make sure she _could_. Because he _would_ be coming back.

... She didn't think she could survive without him.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Nice to reference things we had waaay back in the first arc. Dooku's demise feels more dignified that Anakin just lobbing off his head and it was... not as evil. And despite everyone knowing that it was Palpatine but the Jedi, the Jedi have now been sufficiently knocked on the head with it. Particularly Anakin. He wouldn't believe anyone about this without proof.

Hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving! We certainly did. We're too stuffed to think of what other things to point out. Other than the fact that the next chapters are The Awesome.

Next week: Anakin just keeps sinking without realizing it.


	47. Where Jedi Fight

**Where Jedi Fight**

Yoda leapt back, avoiding another Senatorial pod that Sidious had flung with such ease.

The fight, to Yoda's surprise, was not going well.

The tiny Jedi had fought with all his knowledge and experience of the Lightside of the Force. He'd remained calm, focused, determined. Sidous fought with hatred, anger and all the power of the Darkside. He _enjoyed_ making Yoda dodge and avoid and block.

It was the embodiment of Light against the embodiment of Dark.

It was something that Jedi had fought for and trained for since long before Yoda had first learned the ways of the Force.

The Light was coming up short against the Dark.

_Hmmm, a problem this is_, Yoda reflected as he repelled lightening back to the Emperor. _With Anakin and Obi-Wan I must speak_.

Darkness had changed. Evolved. Over millennium of silence, the Darkside had adapted.

The Light had not.

It was a bitter pill to take.

Yet one that Yoda willfully swallowed as he tumbled down to the floor below, his cloak fluttering and blocking Sidious's view.

The holocron Obi-Wan had left behind had spoken of other things, learned from Anakin. That the Jedi had failed.

As Yoda slid through maintenance tunnels, surrounded by circuitry and calling for Bail Organa to pick him up, Yoda was starting to believe that the holocron was correct.

The Jedi had failed.

And as a Jedi master, Yoda accepted it, and was willing to learn something new.

Because the Jedi would need to regroup. The Emperor would be defeated.

Yoda just needed to think outside of the box he'd helped to create and live in for centuries as to how.

* * *

The three of them sat together in meditation. It was not a joint meditation; the three had not sunk into the Force together as they could have. It was silently agreed that, sometimes, one just needed a moment alone to absorb all that had happened.

That Anakin knew this mostly was a result of _him_ did not help.

Even now, locked away deep in his own mind so that even Obi-Wan's constant presence in the back of his mind was just a whisper, an impression much like he had at the beginning of the war, he was seething. More than anything else, this was what he needed - a moment to just _stop_ and _think_. Things were happening so fast, he felt he could hardly keep up with everything that was going on. The clones turned on the Jedi, the Jedi were dead, _all of them_, _Palpatine_ was a kriffing _Sith Lord_, his own troops had slaughtered younglings, it was like the entire galaxy had turned against him and he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop - and worse, he knew exactly what that other shoe was: his vision.

The darkness he felt in his vision was now permeating the air; the horrible picture of Ahsoka collapsed in pain had come to pass. He hadn't prevented it. He'd tried so hard, promised with everything that he was, and it _still_ happened! He looked to the other pieces - Obi-Wan in emotional agony, and worst of all, Padme dying in childbirth. Even thinking about it seemed to trigger the vision, and all at once Anakin saw the cloudy images.

_"Please! Please! Ani! Ani!"_

_ "Hold on, Padme; you've got to hold on!"_

_ "He can't... he can't have... Ani! Auh!"_

Anakin could feel it; he could feel the contractions as they hit, could feel his stomach lurching as the baby tried to be born. He could feel Obi-Wan's desperation to keep even one person alive - the most important person to Anakin. He could feel Obi-Wan's anguish, his utter inability to confirm Padme's words. He could feel the weariness, the exhaustion, the hurt that was both physical and mental. He'd just been through battle, Anakin realized. That was a detail he'd not been aware of before.

From Padme he could feel the overwhelming broken heart, the sense of hopelessness and loss and _what-was-the-point-of-living_ without her beloved. He felt the pressure of a physically taxing labor seeping her energy and crushing her already shattered heart. He felt her desperate fight of denial, crippling her even further, until her body could simply no longer maintain the strain.

And Anakin felt the exact moment she died, because that was when hope died with her.

...Wait, hope?

Anakin's brow furrowed, and he frowned. On reflection, this was the first time he'd had the vision during the meditation. Always before it came when he was asleep or lost in thought - caught unawares or when he was emotionally vulnerable. Anakin's first instinct in those situations was to react; the anger shielded him from the possibility of being hurt - something that had been drilled into him through constant meditation with his master as a Padawan even before the war started. Now, though, emotionally calm - or at least neutral - he saw more details than he ever had before. He had not known Obi-Wan had just come from battle, nor had he before felt Padme's overwhelming sense of loss. Coupled together, Anakin could only come to one conclusion, a suspicion he'd had earlier now simply confirmed:

He died. Anakin Skywalker was about to die.

Even in meditation, there was a gut reaction: run the hell away. Hide somewhere until Padme's birth, erasing the vision. That was at war, however, with another gut reaction he'd been suffering since watching the holo-recording of Dooku's last battle: fight and kill Palpatine.

When he realized this, he realized that, if he went to fight Palpatine, he would die, and the vision would come true.

His frown deepened even further when Anakin realized that this was not an easy decision, like he thought it should be. There should have been only one choice: protect Padme. Run away and fight when it was safe. It was a sound military strategy, one many a Jedi followed. It could guarantee 100 percent that Padme lived. The flip side, however, came when one considered Palpatine. The weeks spent in hiding would give the Sith a chance to solidify the power he had with the Jedi dead and a clone army at his command. Any strike Anakin could plan would be that much harder - maybe even impossible. A quick strike now, when the Sith hadn't yet consolidated his power, had the highest chance of success and frankly it was Anakin's preferred style. He was never one to hide. And yet, he knew his own heart when it came to loss of a loved one, and he knew all too well how he reacted with his mother's death. He couldn't inflict that pain on anyone, and if he went to face Palpatine he was as much as told he was going to die. He couldn't do that to Padme and Obi-Wan - or even Ahsoka though she wasn't in that part of the vision. She'd already had one brush with the Darkside.

Force, why was it _Palpatine_? Anakin had so many happy memories with the man, of sitting in his office and talking to the older man about any- and everything. Palpatine always knew just what to say, Anakin always felt good after seeing him; he always said what he wanted to hear. He remembered the secrets of politics, the questions Palpatine would pose to him as if he were already an adult, the prolonged discussions that would carry over to Obi-Wan as the debate continued. Was it really all a lie? Did it really mean nothing, machinations to get into the Jedi Council and spy on them by an unwittingly open Padawan - and then a Councilor himself? If _Palpatine_ could be that deceptive, what did that say about anybody else? Could Obi-Wan hide his feelings that well, too? Was he lying as well? What if nobody loved him?

And just like that, there was a soft, distant touch on his mind, Obi-Wan mentally patting his shoulder even though he was waist deep in his own meditation.

Anakin took heart, knowing that he had no right to ever, _ever_ doubt Obi-Wan - for no other reason than because their bond hid nothing from each other.

Turning back to the problem - the decision - at hand, Anakin realized there was another consideration to be had. Palpatine had told him it was possible to keep people from dying. Obi-Wan had searched the Jedi archives for _hours_ trying to see if such a technique was possible before heading to Utapau. If he confronted Sidious, was it possible to extract the technique from the old man so that Padme could be saved - if not by him than by Obi-Wan or Ahsoka? Didn't killing Palpatine trump the vision? Was there any way to save Padme that didn't mean running away and leaving the galaxy to rot?

Ultimately, Anakin didn't _want_ to run away.

As soon as he thought that, however, he knew that there was one thing he constantly ran from, one thing he avoided over and over - accepting that one day the people around him were going to die. He ran away every day. He'd _been_ running, ever since he lost his mother.

...

... He was tired of running.

That thought brought a cascade of decisions.

It was a risk, running off to face Palpatine; but Anakin decided it was one worth taking. It might even be impossible, and Obi-Wan often stated his views of what Anakin did with the word "impossible." He could do it; he could _do_ it. He could face off with Palpatine, beat the kriffing Sith to a bloody pulp, have him publicly renounce himself, force him to explain how to keep Padme from dying, and then maybe kill the sucker. He could have his cake and eat it too. Doing so would make him face and then defeat the fear of the loss of others because he would make sure he wouldn't lose to Palpatine. He wouldn't. He _wouldn't_.

It was a win-win situation; because it would also erase some of the damage done to the galaxy by Palpatine's hand. Yes, it would be better to have Palpatine show himself to be a Sith Lord, maybe even publicly, make the galaxy turn on him after kissing his ass for over a decade. If they could get a recording...

A plan started to form in his head; he had an idea of how to make this work.

He could do this. Nobody would have to die. He could save everyone.

He could... he could stop the pain.

Really, he should have learned by then that battle didn't bring resolution.

But he was so steeped in the Darkside he didn't even realize he was making rationalizations.

* * *

Padme sat back, stroking her swelled stomach. She was back on the _Tantive IV_, waiting patiently for Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Bail, _anyone_. Her healer had _insisted_ she get some rest, and so she sat in the conference room and waited. It wasn't _restful_. It wouldn't _be_ restful until her husband and family were back in her arms. But at least it wasn't strenuous.

She had the HoloNet on in the background, white noise as she looked down at her unborn child and tried to focus on the positive. The life she and Anakin would have once this little miracle was born. Uncle Obi-Wan dragged over to babysit while she and Ani went out for some private time. Maybe even Auntie Ahsoka as a babysitter. First steps, first words, first smile, first laugh, so many happy times to look toward.

Assuming she lived. Assuming Anakin lived. She wasn't sure about the prospects of either of those events occurring.

Anakin had had a vision of her death in childbirth. And from what they knew of his vision, it was possible that he died as well...

Padme didn't _want_ that. She didn't _want_ her child to be an orphan. Obi-Wan would look after the child, there was no doubt about that. And given how good a job Obi-Wan did with Anakin, the child would be fine. Ahsoka would no doubt help as well. But even if their child was fine, she didn't _want_ it to be that way. She wanted to raise this wonderful baby with Anakin. She wanted them to be _safe_.

So much was happening and it was all so fast. She didn't feel like she had any time to even realize all that was happening.

The Jedi were dead.

All across the galaxy, dead in an instant.

And her husband and his Padawan had felt every single death.

And she could do _nothing_.

Now Palpatine had provided "evidence" on why the Jedi had to die. Evidence that never even went into debate, evidence that merely had the "sentence" carried out immediately.

It made her sick.

She wanted to _do_ something. But she had a baby growing inside of her to think about. All she could do was wait.

Waiting was probably the most difficult thing anyone ever had to do.

"Such helplessness suits you not," a wizened old voice said.

Padme spun her chair around swiftly, her eyes wide. "Master Yoda!" Another Jedi survived! There was hope that others did as well. She breathed a sigh of relief. Other Jedi were alive out there. They _had_ to be.

"Hmmm, better circumstances I would prefer, to see you again."

"Indeed," she replied. "Please, have a seat."

Yoda nodded, hobbling forward, Bail behind him as they sat down.

Padme looked down to her stomach again, hoping that all this stress wasn't affecting the baby. She also needed a moment to think. Bail, through unfortunate circumstances, knew about her and Anakin. But Yoda didn't. She didn't feel it was her place to say anything to the venerable master. She didn't know him as well as Anakin, and she wasn't the one who had problems with the tiny Jedi. She supported her husband in their decision to keep their marriage a secret. But so much had changed in just one day that she didn't know what was or wasn't the right thing to do.

She looked up, thinking of discussing a good place to hide for her and Anakin and the other Jedi. She never got that far.

"_People of the Republic! You've been lied to._"

All three turned to the HoloNet. "Padawan Tano?" Bail gasped.

"_The Jedi had no plans to take over the Republic. We have only ever sought to protect and keep peace. When war broke out, we were thrown into a place nobody ever wants to be in._"

The image flickered and jittered.

"_What we didn't know was that we were set up. And that the war was nothing but a game for the Sith. We were _all_ betrayed. And as we are wiped out, we learned who the Sith was._"

A security holo came up, of cribs and a handless Dooku and a hooded Sith that Padme now recognized. The holo played out and Padme brought her hands up to her mouth in horror. Particularly when Darth Sidious spoke. There was no doubting the voice. And once Dooku was on the floor, Sidious motioned and clones came in, shooting the defenseless babies in the cribs. Padme dropped her arms down to protect the baby still inside of her in some instinctual distress of what could happen.

"_If you have any doubt of the voice of Darth Sidious and his true identity,_" Ahsoka continued, "_this should banish them. Our 'Emperor' has been playing us. And it's time we stand up to him._"

The holo flickered to a partially destroyed Senate building, as her husband and his partner, the Team the Republic believed in, faced off with Palpatine.

"_Fellow slicers out there. Help keep this feed going as long as you can. I must help my master fight the Sith. And no matter what happens to us, at least all of you know the truth._"

"Oh," Padme gasped, tears in her eyes. "_Ohhh_," because her husband had just made a decision without her and she was going to _strangle_ him when she got her hands on him again.

But everyone in the galaxy now knew the truth. They would resist.

Padme leaned forward with tears streaming. Her husband had weighed his vision of how this meeting would likely turn out against the galaxy. And he was doing it anyway.

She loved him _so much_.

"Hmmmm. A bold move this is. Too be expected, of young Skywalker."

Bail sat back, looking pale. "We... we need to contact Mon. We're going to have people signing up by the thousands. We need to organize this somehow. Figure out how to select who's not just angry versus those who want real change. This... this won't just set things up... it'll create a _maelstrom_. How are we going to manage a _maelstrom_?"

And as they watched the first blows of the fight start, Padme's first contraction hit.

* * *

Obi-Wan didn't want to do this.

It bore repeating. Obi-Wan Kenobi _didn't_ want to do this.

As the three of them snuck into the Senate building, all he could think about was how much he didn't want to be there, didn't want to be participating in this, didn't want any of this to be happening. It wasn't for himself that he didn't want to do this, though; it was for Anakin.

Something horrifying was going on in his former Padawan's mind. If the mind of a half-turned Jedi felt like that, he didn't even want to _conceive_ of what the mind of a full Sith Lord like Palpatine looked like. All the fear and anger and hate that was filling Anakin's mind... it was _damaging_. _Literally_. When he'd lowered his shields to break the dark hold on the Jedi he'd felt pieces of their bond breaking apart. Even now, he could feel a measurable difference in how well he could sense Anakin, and he was not so closed off as to admit to himself that the idea of Anakin turning utterly petrified him. It would kill Padme to say nothing of himself, and when he'd realized that during the meditation, he realized fully what Anakin's dream was forewarning.

It wasn't Anakin's death.

It was his Fall.

Obi-Wan didn't want to do this.

But fighting a Sith, it was his duty.

He wanted to damn his duty. Qui-Gon had once said that every Jedi has moments where they hate their duty; their duty made them do things they didn't want to, or hurt them in ways others couldn't understand. What made a Jedi a Jedi, however, was the ability to understand that the duty represented the greater good and that the sacrifice was worth it. A Jedi life was not an easy life - it never was; but the reward came in seeing the good that the pain had wrought. Obi-Wan fully believed it, even when he couldn't see the good his actions created. He believed that there was a greater purpose in his life, the will of the Force, such as his mind could articulate it, and so he'd come to the deduction that the greater the pain the greater the good he was doing. Otherwise, there would be times he couldn't understand why he was exposed to the pain - like with Ventress, like with everything that had been happening in this catastrophic twenty-four hour period.

And so Obi-Wan swore to everything he believed in - everything that was in ash and ruins at his feet - he swore to it that he would do his duty. He would fight the Sith Palpatine.

And he would do another duty, too.

He would keep Anakin from Falling.

If he had to die in the process, well, the ultimate pain logically had to bring about the ultimate good. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, but he understood that decisions like that weren't up to him.

That was what kept him calm as he, Anakin, and Ahsoka quietly took over a security control room. Anakin and Ahsoka did their work, both being more skilled in electronics than him.

"Snips, you stay here," Anakin ordered.

"Master-"

"No, Snips, as soon as this hits the airwaves everybody and their brother is going to try and cut off this feed. You need to keep it open for as long as possible, at least until _he_ uses something like lightening or something to prove that he's a Sith. Besides," he added, his voice a little distant, "you don't have the skills to fight _him_."

"Master! I've fought that bog-witch Ventress more times than-"

"She wasn't a true Sith, Ahsoka," Anakin said, standing to his full height. His eyes were still blue, but the bloodshot rims were bright red, and he didn't quite look at his Padawan, but rather past her, already mentally preparing for the coming fight. "You're good; great even, but potential isn't going to mean much in a fight against _him_." In a lower voice, almost to himself, he muttered, "I want at least one of us to make it out of here alive..."

It disturbed Obi-Wan on more levels than he could name that he couldn't sense the mental sentiment that backed up his words.

"I... Okay, Master." Ahsoka frowned, looking dejected and determined at the same time. Anakin turned on his heel and marched out, and Obi-Wan offered his own goodbyes.

"Don't take chances," he offered softly. "If you have to run, run; pass on what you've learned, and protect Padme. The Force will be with you, always."

As the two of them walked unmolested through the halls, Obi-Wan poked at their thinner bond, trying to gain a sense of his former Padawan, but all he could sense was black anticipation. He sighed, trying to figure out how he could possibly prevent Anakin from the path he was treading.

"I won't let it happen, Master," Anakin said in low tones. "I _won't_ let her die."

"Anakin..."

"_No_, Master. Palaptine said he could stop people from dying. I just need to keep him alive long enough to get the process out of him. Then we can kill him."

"_Anakin_, do you _hear_ yourself?"

His eyes were flickering with red, but finally settled on blue. "Fine, we'll let the courts kill him."

Obi-Wan was lost. And any more thoughts had to be cast aside as they entered the Grand Convocation Chamber. Several pods were upended, there was the smell of smoke and ozone. There had been a battle here. Between whom? Obi-Wan didn't have time to ponder as they both leaped with the Force to the Chancellor podium, Anakin deftly opening the control panel and calling it to lower to Palpatine's offices. Obi-Wan took a deep breath. He could feel the dark energies down there; worse, he could feel them leaking up in great tendrils, caressing and interlocking with Anakin's own personal darkness.

Duty. He thought of duty.

The worried visage of Qui-Gon Jinn startled him but he quickly banished it from his mind.

"Ah, welcome. My young apprentice."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Grin. Tomorrow we're Christmas shopping and won't have time for the usual post. As such, congratulations! It's a day early!

For the next chapter, in no particular order:

http :/ mirrorandimage . deviantart . com / gallery / 31611895 #/ d355905

http :/ mirrorandimage . deviantart . com / gallery / 31611895 #/ d3lilvj

http :/ mirrorandimage . deviantart . com / gallery / 31611895 #/ d4bibpi

Next week: Where Light Flickers And...


	48. Where Light Flickers And

**Where Light Flickers And...**

Palpatine sat at his desk, cloaked in a black, black hood covering his head but not hiding the yellow glow of his eyes. The scarring was ugly and dramatic, almost theatrical. A small corner of Obi-Wan's mind wondered if he'd enjoyed whatever it was that caused all that physical twisting. The outer shell finally manifested the ugly pillar of Darkness that was on the inside.

Obi-Wan and Anakin stood shoulder to shoulder. Nobody moved.

Palpatine smiled.

"I see you brought Master Kenobi with you. Tell me, is he a peace offering?"

Anakin swirled in darkness. "I'm not you're apprentice."

"Perhaps not yet," Palpatine conceded. "But you will be soon enough."

"_Never._"

The denial only made Palpatine's smile widen. His gaze shifted a few minor degrees to regard Obi-Wan. "What say you, Master Kenobi? Dull as your abilities are I'm sure you can see how much better suited he is for the Darkside."

In this, at least, Obi-Wan could give an honest answer: "The Darkside suits no one. It can only bring tragedy."

"Ah, yes; such a _Jedi_ answer. Oh, but I forget, there aren't any more Jedi."

That _hurt_, but Obi-Wan was a cup drinking of the Force, it washed away.

"Two Jedi are here," Obi-Wan said softly, his voice hard.

"Ah, but there you are wrong," Palpatine answered, leaning back in his chair and grinning with unadulterated satisfaction. "We have one Jedi with us - who will die shortly, I assure you - and one half made Sith."

"Liar." Anakin hissed.

The Sith only tilted his head lightly to on side. "Am I? Do you not see happening within you what I have foreseen for years? What I have cultivated for over a decade? What I have planned from the very start when I killed my master? Plageus always was too trusting."

"_You were my mentor!_" Anakin roared, his anger overtaking him. Obi-Wan grabbed his arm, muscles taught under his hand, and the Jedi master could see the red bleeding into his eyes again. "I trusted you! I went to you with everything! I looked up to you!"

"And well you should," Palpatine said. No, Obi-Wan decided, this was no Palpatine; that was only his exterior, the veneer that covered the Sith's true identity. This was Sidious, all masks ripped away. "Look at what I have given you."

"What you've _taken_ from me!"

"What I've _freed_ you from," Sidious corrected. "Look around you my boy. The Jedi are no longer here to constrain you with their hand-me-down rules of a bygone era. You no longer have to fear their disapproval of your marriage. Oh, Master Kenobi, did you know of it? Perhaps I haven't saved you from all reproach yet. But then, you can finish the job any time you wish."

"He already knows everything," Anakin hissed, blue returning to his eyes. "And _he_ hasn't done anything to _betray_ me!"

"My dear boy, I've only given you what you wanted. Tell me, what else do you want? A planet? A podracer? A branch of government? The emperor's seat itself? I will give it all to you; you need only ask."

"What I _want_ is to kriffing _kill_ you for what you've done." His eyes were red again.

"Then by all means, do so," Sidious said with poise and oily grace. "I am unarmed. Strike me down and your journey to the Darkside will be complete."

Only when Anakin's lightsaber ignited did Obi-Wan step forward, firmly planting himself in between the two. Dangerous as it might have been, Obi-Wan kept his back to Anakin and turned all his focus onto Sidious. "You are quite skilled in dun moch," he said in low tones, none of his normal cordiality present in his voice. "But no one will be turning today."

Sidious only smiled again. "And this is why you will fail. Young Skywalker was right about you; you're only holding him back. Look at what you're doing right now, standing in front of him like that. You've been holding him back from his true potential for years."

Obi-Wan knew for a fact that that wasn't true. The only thing holding Anakin back from his true potential was Anakin himself; until he could admit that he was afraid of loss, until he could accept that people died not matter what one did to prevent it, until he could move on from his mother's death, he would continue to be hampered by his fears. He knew it with such certainty that the barb did nothing to him, it washed over him and away, into the Force where it could do no harm. _Anakin,_ he thought, sending it through the bond, _we have to have him start the fight. Anakin? Can you hear me?_

There was no response.

Obi-Wan didn't outwardly react; indeed he countered Sidious' ineffectual jibe by saying, "Anakin is the only one who can decide his true potential." He mentally, however, was redoubling his efforts to contact his partner. All he could hear was black, all he could feel was pain, and he could sense his bond being congested with anger, _anger, ANGER_ as it flooded through his brain.

Sidious seemed to be enjoying the show, there was a low chuckle that wafted from his lips. "Look at him, young Skywalker," he said, directing his gaze to the tower of fury behind Obi-Wan. "He's breaking his bond with you as we speak, trying to hide from the truth I'm telling."

"_Liar!_"

Anakin leapt over Obi-Wan's head, blue lightsaber flashing, and landed on the emperor's desk; he raised his blade over his head, preparing for a sweeping arc, and Obi-Wan found himself lifting a hand and pulling his partner back with a jerk of the Force.

Orange eyes swirled to face him. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Obi-Wan could feel more of the bond shatter, Anakin's roiling, raging, overwhelming anger clogging and narrowing the bond, breaking off entire branches of roots in their minds.

"Please, not in anger," Obi-Wan whispered in reply, even then trying to force his way through all the pain and rage and confusion to show Anakin what was happening, what Sidious was doing, what was breaking. It hurt, his brain was roaring in his skull; and he thought his nerves were on fire with the heat of Anakin's emotions. He tried to reach out to them and release them to the Force, as his dear former Padawan had done for him when he had returned from Rattatak. The bond was no longer strong enough to do it, however, and all he could sense was more rage.

Something must have worked, however, because the eyes dulled, not quite to blue but an iron gray.

Sidious was still smiling at his desk. "It would seem, Master Kenobi, that so long as you live you will prevent my apprentice from reaching his full potential. So be it."

Quicker than thought, Sidious had a red lightsaber in his hand and was leaping over his desk to the two of them. Luckily for Obi-Wan, he did not need to think, he only needed the Force. His own lightsaber ignited and came up in an instinctive block before he had even really processed what was happening. He gave ground quickly, backing up and up and up as Sidious pressed a furious assault. Some of the moves he had seen before in the duel with Dooku, others were completely new to him and Obi-Wan was hard pressed to fully track and catalogue the moves he was seeing. It would be a long battle indeed before Sidious tired enough to make a mistake. Dooku, even in his eighties, could handle a protracted battle with the Force, he could only guess what Sidious was capable of.

Anakin was chasing after them, blue lightsaber swinging up and down as he pumped his arms and his legs to keep up. Sparks and burns flashed left and right, bits of wall falling away or furniture flying apart in multiple pieces. The lights overhead exploded as the intense energy of the lightsabers struck, putting the room in darkness save for the late evening sky behind Sidious, an orange flame making all parties stark silhouettes.

Obi-Wan deflected, thrust and parried, hacked and slashed, striked and stabbed; giving ground physically even as he refused to give ground mentally. His head throbbed and ached but he ignored it all, determined to do his duty. His mental focus was entirely on blocking and observing and analyzing Sidious while his emotional focus was trying to spear its way to Anakin, to reach his partner's inner core and stroke it, let him know it was alright, that it would be okay, that he was _there_ for him.

He couldn't do it.

He couldn't _do_ it.

Anakin finally caught up and slashed his lightsaber down, a vicious Djem So move that Obi-Wan knew from experience was backed up with the Force, adding speed and momentum to the swing. Sidious flicked it aside like it was nothing before mimicking the move on Obi-Wan, the blow of lightsaber and lightsaber shaking all the way up to the Jedi's shoulders. He bent backwards nearly parallel to the ground to avoid an additional horizontal slash, and the Force sent him spinning to the side in order to avoid the abrupt change in direction of Sidious' blade, having only just enough time to block the next blow. Anakin was working feverishly, trying to get in between Sidious and Obi-Wan, to defend his partner and attack his nemesis at the same time.

It was doomed to failure, Sidious would have none of it and knocked him aside with the Force.

Instinctively, Obi-Wan reached out to catch his friend even as he gave yet more ground in his defensive style, trying to find any repetition of pattern. He did not recognize the style. A door was suddenly behind him, and Obi-Wan found himself leaving the emperor's office, fighting in the narrow confines of a hallway. It had done his own master in, but he would be damned if it did _him_ in, and Obi-Wan gave more ground, reaching out for Anakin and begging that he could be heard.

_Anakin! Like with Dooku!_

He waited, hoping to see Anakin reach up and take over, have him be the offensive while Obi-Wan covered for them both. He waited and waited, even as he gave yet more ground, circling around the Convocation Chamber's perimeter hallways.

Their blades locked for a brief moment, and Sidious gave a low, evil chuckle. "He can no longer hear you, Master Kenobi. It is only a matter of time. I have foreseen it."

It struck much too close to home, Obi-Wan was hearing his worst fear from Sidious' mouth, and even though he knew it was nothing more than dun moch, he could not deny the tiny sliver of fear in him that was growing by the second.

Anakin suddenly appeared out of nowhere, bowling into both combatants and knocking all three of them over. Obi-Wan tumbled and rolled to his feet. Blood was trickling down from somewhere in his hairline, and he wiped it from his eyes as he watched Anakin, _yellow eyed Anakin_, engage Sidious in battle.

In one terrifying moment, Obi-Wan saw the very nature of Anakin's vision come true. He saw himself with Padme, in labor and denying with everything that she was that Anakin had turned, the truth crushing her so utterly that she died in birth, and he saw only a hollow existence after that. He had to stop it. He had to _stop_ it.

The two combatants pushed through a door and into the Convocation Chamber, the senatorial pods spread out in all their splendor, the damage they had seen previously comparatively light. Obi-Wan followed, plotting. In his mind's eye, he could see the lower levels of the Naboo hangar, the tattooed Zabrack as he led Qui-Gon and he into his trap. Sidious was doing exactly the same thing, leaving Anakin into the worst of traps. This wouldn't lead to death like with his master; this would lead to a Fall. He was running against time, and he was determined to make the outcome different. If this was a ploy, a game to play on Anakin's anger and force him to turn, then Sidious wanted to do one of two things: gall Anakin, as he had done with the dun moch, or hurt Obi-Wan, as he had done with the furious attack. The lightsaber combat was a problem as well, Obi-Wan had to do something to minimize the pieces of the equation.

Anakin pressed his assault, shouting epitaphs of betrayal and cries of retribution through the cadence of lightsabers sparking against each other. Sidious could only laugh, which made Anakin even angrier.

Obi-Wan blinked, recognizing a pattern of movements, and paused after landing on a senatorial pod, watching. There, then that, then... yes. Obi-Wan saw a complete kata, and from there his mind deduced the major forms of Sidious' style of combat. He could fight the Sith.

The question then became if he could fight Anakin. His friend, his partner, his brother, was oblivious to all that was around him. He was utterly surrounded by his anger and would not stand for one to stand in the way of his bitter perusal of revenge.

Still, he had to try.

It was his duty. Both his duties.

Obi-Wan leapt forward and fell in step with Anakin's Djem So, circling around and defending both himself and Anakin while the other took the offensive. This was why they were such a good team, they could both play to their strengths and cover their weaknesses. Obi-Wan fought with everything that he was, looking at the moves, watching as Sidious worked his way through his cycles. He doubted Anakin even realized the patterns, just acting and reacting to the Living Force as was his wont. Could he even feel the Living Force, dark as he was right now? The thought made Obi-Wan shiver and his pushed it aside. He would have to time this right.

He bided his time, waiting. He became more familiar with Sidious' patterns, he learned the logic behind the moves, the philosophy behind the style, and he waited some more. Anakin was not so patient, Obi-Wan was hard pressed to keep both of them safe from the Sith's agile and vicious attacks. He could feel small burns as blows came too close, he knew Anakin was growling over the cuts that he too was receiving.

"Master, stop getting in the way," he shouted.

"No."

"Master!"

"Whatever happens," Obi-Wan said, "I'll not leave you alone. Even if you do."

"Such sweet words," Sidious said, smiling still. He hadn't stopped. "But the truth is you want the glory of the kill for yourself."

"Shut up!" Anakin shouted. "That's not true!"

"Isn't it? Feel along your bond, Skywalker, see if I'm not telling the truth."

"You know full well the bond is almost gone," Obi-Wan said, "No doubt as you've planned."

"I haven't had to do anything, Master Kenobi. You've done it yourself. Skywalker, see if you can kill me now!"

That was when the Sith lightning erupted, arcing _around_ Obi-Wan's lightsaber and electrocuting him. Paired with it was a mental assault, images of Qui-Gon's death, his torture on Rattatak, the loss of Siri Tachi, all of it ripped to the forefront of his mind. Agony ripped through him even as his Force empathy projected Anakin's own terror and hatred into his mind, funneling everything into a swirling hurricane of pain. He was screaming perhaps, and his body refused to listen to his commands, and suddenly he was falling and falling and _falling_.

A pod abruptly stopped his fall and for a few seconds it was all he could do to breathe. Everything was short-circuiting, his brain almost wasn't functioning, and his emotions were only half his. This was the problem. It always had been. Anakin never had skill in Force Empathy, he was always too absorbed in his own emotions. The only thing that ever made him think outside of himself was when Obi-Wan was hur-

The thought struck him so suddenly he almost collapsed again, but he looked up to the fight and knew what he had to do. Two deep breaths and he leapt back up into the fight, specifically he leapt right in front of Anakin's thrust.

The blue blade pierced his shoulder, through his shoulder blade and who knew what else. He could see the blue light emitting from the front, just under his collarbone, and he could feel Anakin's pulse of shock, and he saw Sidious' smile finally wipe away. Obi-Wan took his opportunity, and he swung his lightsaber with his working arm and broke the red lightsaber, splitting the hilt in two.

Pity he didn't get the hand attached to it.

"_Master!_"

The cry came from two voices, and suddenly Ahsoka was there, falling from above with experienced grace, both of her lightsabers ignited and ready to strike.

Sidious was quick, however, and a hand raised even as lighting erupted from it, coursing through Ahsoka who had no means of escape, gravity only bringing her closer to the pain. She was screaming, Anakin was screaming, and suddenly there was a pulse in the Force; the Sith had gathered it together to shove the Togrutan away, striking a pod a dozen meters up with such force that she dented it, rolling up and over it before disappearing behind it. Obi-Wan could still feel her surprise, her pain, and her broken bones. Only then did it dawn on him that he should have been feeling pain as well, and when he had that thought he was overwrought with it.

The Force wrapped around him, Sidious again no doubt, and Obi-Wan was flying in an opposite direction. He thought he saw blood, and that confused him because a lightsaber automatically cauterized wounds it made. Lightning hit him again, but he was in so much pain that it was hardly a blip on his radar, nor was his unceremonious crash into another pod.

He thought he saw Qui-Gon again.

But it was Anakin's face, looking over him in hysterics. His eyes were...

"... blue..."

"Obi-Wan, please! Don't try to talk!"

Obi-Wan's words came out as a hoarse rasp. He coughed and tried again. "Where's Ahsoka?"

"Right here," Anakin said, his beautiful blue eyes flicking to the side. Obi-Wan turned his head and saw the unconscious Togrutan Padawan, blood trickling down her lip. "What were you thinking! You got in the way _again_!"

"No," Obi-Wan said slowly, trying to make his mouth work. His body kept twitching, still suffering from the electrocution. He was going into shock. He fought it.

"No?"

"He's no lightsaber now," he rasped, "and you finally have a clear head."

"No I don't! Obi-Wan, what happened to the bond? I can't feel you!"

Without the bond, Obi-Wan did the only thing he could think of to reassure this man that he had known for over a decade; the man he'd raised; the man he'd fought with, fought against, adventured with; the man he knew as well as himself; the man who needed him. With great effort, through the pain and the shock, he lifted the one arm he could move and managed to toss it over Anakin's shoulder, his best approximation of a hug he could manage. And he spoke the words aloud that he always did on the bond.

"You are my brother, Anakin. I love you."

* * *

There was a moment. A moment when time didn't exist.

Tears were spilling out.

His heart was _aching_.

And yet, he was in this timeless, unending moment.

_You are my brother, Anakin. I love you_.

Two simple sentences. There was no Force behind them. No power. Obi-Wan didn't have the strength for that, injured as he was.

But there was _weight_ to those two simple sentences. A heavy, heavy weight that smacked him straight in the face.

It wasn't just Obi-Wan that he could no longer feel. He couldn't feel Ahsoka. His Padawan had appeared out of nowhere, and he hadn't even sensed that she was coming. He couldn't feel Padme, and he could _always_ sense her when he was on Coruscant.

In that moment, he looked at his bonds. _Really_ looked at them.

They were broken. And for every broken piece there was a hole of Darkness. A very familiar Darkness.

... _His_ Darkness. The fear, anger, hatred and suffering that he'd been overwhelmed by all day long had... choked the bonds. Broke the bonds. Muted the very bonds he clung to because of the reassurance they gave.

_You are my brother, Anakin. I love you_.

A fresh wave of tears spilled up and over, because this was all his _own_ fault. He was so steeped in Darkness, he didn't even realize that just coming here was indulging in his own selfishness to get some sort of revenge for all the pain he'd been suffering from because a mentor that he trusted had betrayed him.

Obi-Wan had seen this.

And Obi-Wan, exceedingly selfless and _stupid_ Obi-Wan, had done the only thing that _ever_ broke through to him when he was this overwhelmed by what he was feeling.

He took a sobbing breath.

The bonds weren't severed _yet_.

He wouldn't let them be.

Ignoring Sidious, the ache of his heart, the pain of injuries, _everything_, he focused as he had never focused before. He flooded the bonds.

He flooded them with everything he had.

But what he had at that moment wasn't darkness.

It was _love_ for his brother, his Padawan, his wife, his unborn child. Love, affection, adoration, admiration, respect, all the things he felt for these three precious people filled the bonds, banishing the hideous taint of Darkness, letting them shine with the love he always had for them.

The response was immediate.

Ahsoka, unconscious though she was, immediately nestled herself into the bond, taking strength from it and subconsciously responding with her own trust and belief in him.

Far above in orbit, Padme gave a great sigh of relief, though she didn't know why, as she watched the HoloNet broadcast of their battle while in the first stages of labor. Already, the birth settled into something easier than what it had been.

And Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan just smiled as their bond came back to life and feelings and thoughts were shared in that timeless instant.

He saw what Obi-Wan had seen. The danger he was in. He saw what Ahsoka had seen. The worry she had for him. He saw what Padme had seen. Her love of him.

He couldn't believe that he'd almost cut this all apart. But he _had_. And he flooded the bonds with his sorrow over what had happened before letting his love for them stuff the bonds to capacity and beyond once more.

"I will look after Ahsoka." Obi-Wan pulled his Padawan to him, shielding her from the vast sphere of pods with his own body, if necessary.

He rubbed tears from his eyes and pulled them both into a hug, brief as it was as time moved forward again.

"You are my brother, Obi-Wan. I love you too."

Anakin Skywalker stood and turned to face Palpatine.

And his fear.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Big Grin.

Next week: Where Death is the Force


	49. Where Death is the Force

**Where Death is the Force**

Lightning was flying towards him and Anakin brought up his lightsaber to block. But the lightning started to arc around, to reach his defenseless family behind him and Anakin jerked his blade to the side to catch it. Ahsoka, though unconscious, was only suffering from broken bones. She wasn't in any immediate danger other than the fact that she couldn't defend herself. Obi-Wan, though conscious, was suffering far more severe wounds. A hole in his shoulder, numerous cuts and burns, and an extended bought of electrocution. Obi-Wan thinking he could defend the both of them was beyond a stretch of the imagination, but knowing him, he'd find a way to do so anyway.

So Anakin held his ground.

Sidious laughed as if this was the most hysterical thing in the world.

"Ah, my foolish little apprentice." Sidious landed on a pod in the same row as theirs, but further down the circumference.

"I am not, nor will I _ever_ be, your apprentice," Anakin growled, holding firm.

Sidious gave a dark chuckle. "My boy," he said with all the gentleness of Palpatine, "I took you under my wing the day you arrived on Coruscant. You've already been my apprentice for years. You just haven't realized it."

Anakin _burned_ and _fumed_ at the presumption of it all. Sidious spoke like he'd controlled Anakin's life, and, though he hated admitting it, that was true. But Sidious didn't make Anakin's decisions. Sidious didn't train and guide him. Palpatine was merely _one_ mentor that Anakin looked up to. And for the Sith to presume that he was the only one that mattered chaffed at all the respect and love Anakin had for Obi-Wan...

Though Anakin was finally thinking straight again, didn't mean he wasn't still pissed off beyond measure.

But he pulled in the anger, using the lesson Padme had taught him ages ago about taking his anger and focusing it into something constructive. Tempting as it was to throw all of his anger in to fixing things by killing Sidious, that was still an act of destruction. And with his feelings of anger and hatred as strong as they were at that moment, that would mean his Fall. And that _wasn't_ going to happen.

"I will _never_ turn to the Darkside," he stated, holding his lightsaber up above his head with both hands, blade pointed towards Sidious in a classic Djem So stance.

"Hnnn, so stubborn," the Sith tisked. "You don't seem to understand you're already half there. Perhaps a more definitive push is necessary."

Anakin readied himself for any attack Sidious might throw.

With a chuckle, Sidious asked, "Who would you rather die? Your lovely wife and unborn child? Or your beloved master and earnest Padawan?"

His blood froze in his veins as Anakin gripped his lightsaber even more tightly.

"A stupid move, really. Something only a foolish _Jedi_ would do," Sidious continued. "You consider them all your family, my young apprentice. And yet you have divided them. You believe your pregnant wife safe in hiding. If she is not halfway to Naboo, then you smuggled her onto Senator Organa's consular ship that is currently in orbit over Coruscant."

Anakin paled.

"After all, you made the mistake of trusting others. A flight plan was filed, but really, with such an easily identified craft? Child's play, my boy. Child's play. And as for your little Jedi family behind you, you foolishly thought they could stand by your side. A half-trained Padawan? Really, I gave you more credit than that. And as for Kenobi, _you've_ done him the most harm, not I."

Sidious stepped forward on his pod, fingers curled like claws, elbows bent. "So with your loved ones split into two groups, I ask you. Which do you love more? I will let one pair live if you join me. Either your wife and child, or your master and Padawan. Deny me, and all of them shall perish."

Anger was a common emotion for Anakin. It was something he'd felt ever since he was a child and truly understood what it meant to be a slave. He was familiar with its cadence, flow, and drive. He would hide in it, wield it, wallow in it; whatever was necessary at various times. Because for all that the Jedi preached no anger, there were times where even a Jedi could feel righteous outrage and it could help them through a battle. Obi-Wan had never denied him the right to feel angry. Indeed, he encouraged Anakin to listen to his feelings so that he could feel what message was being given to him, and then let go.

Anger, Anakin could deal with. Even when it overpowered him, like it had for most of the battle thus far, it could still be pierced, as Obi-Wan had so brazenly done.

But anger was swiftly leaving Anakin. And anger would have been so much easier to work with right now.

For left in anger's wake, was fear.

Anakin could either lose everyone he loved so desperately, or _chose_ who would die.

Neither was acceptable.

But it was something he had prepared himself for.

When Anakin had first brought up the idea of marriage to Obi-Wan, there had been a set of questions set before him. And once he shared his marriage with his master, more came forth. Anakin understood the cost.

"I reject your 'generous' offer," he growled. Because none of them, not Ahsoka, not Padme, nor Obi-Wan, would want him to Fall. That would hurt them even more than death, because they'd have to live with the knowledge that he Fell because of them. "Me becoming a Sith would kill them any as surely as you promise to."

There was a surge of pride from Obi-Wan and Anakin couldn't stop a smile from flashing across his face.

Of course, this meant that he was about to lose one of them. Maybe all of them. Because he was going to have to fight. Who knew if Ahsoka's broadcast was still going? Padme might not even know she was in danger. If she did, then Typho was already moving her to somewhere secure, with or without her protests. Not that she would be protesting at the moment given that she was in labor.

Even more terrifying to contemplate was that Anakin had just signed Padme's death sentence regardless. Because he still believed he was going to die here.

_Something to be watchful of. The future is never certain_, Obi-Wan whispered.

_I know, I _know, Anakin growled back.

But as he'd told Obi-Wan three years previously when he'd first said he was married, he _knew_ he wouldn't take the loss well. He'd mourn. He'd grieve. He'd handle it poorly. But he _would_ accept it. He _would_. But he had never considered anyone's death as a result of one of his decisions and the guilt that he'd have to live with.

Anakin hated being alone.

The Jedi might spout how the Force was always with you so you were never alone, and who knew if that was true or not, but Anakin _remembered_ being alone. He remembered back before he was old enough to work the long hours by himself while his mother slaved away. And he never wanted to return to that place.

It was the core of his fear.

And the only reassurance he could offer himself in this moment was that he was doing what his family wanted. That one of them might possibly survive so that he wouldn't be alone.

It wasn't much reassurance.

Sidious shook his head. "Still thinking like a Jedi." Lightning was arcing again and Anakin swung his saber to meet it. "When all are dead and you are left with nothing, I will show you the _true_ nature of the Force. You will come begging to me. Asking for the way I would have taught you to keep your loved ones alive."

Anakin shook his head fiercely. "_Liar_!" he howled. "You've done nothing but _lie_ to me! All those times I visited you were just a game to you. A chance to _use_ me. All that talk about the Republic needing a strong leader to fix what was wrong, you never believed any of it. You only wanted to put yourself on some throne. That story about Darth Plageus is just another treat to dangle in front of me. But now I _know_ what you are, and I'm _not_ biting!"

"And if I die, you will never know."

That _hurt_. It shouldn't have, but it _hurt_. He knew it was temptation, he _knew_ it was just a lure to pull him to the Darkside, but with Ahsoka unconscious, Obi-Wan severely injured, and his vision of Padme, Anakin was _still_ tempted. Tempted so badly it _hurt_. Deep in his heart where he still mourned and grieved the loss of his mother that temptation stabbed at him, bringing up reminders of what he'd feel once the rest of his family was gone. Memories of the swelteringly hot days on Tatooine, working in the oppressively hot garage of Watto while his mother was sent into the steamy streets to get supplies and raging at the injustice of it. Obi-Wan, broken, bloodied, and not looking at all like Obi-Wan, on the overcast world of Riflor barely able to stand through anything other than sheer willpower. Ahsoka with golden eyes and 'sabers lit, leaping towards him with intent to kill. All of his anger and hatred and _loss_ was being brought up from that _fucking_ temptation and scratching at old scabs, breaking repaired damage, wounding his very _soul_.

And the curse of temptation was that to make the agony stop one just had to stop and give in. Stop fighting. Just relax; because fighting could hurt just as much.

Anakin's lightsaber was dropping.

Normally, when some temptation or fear was placed in front of Anakin, he'd simply ignore it in favor of getting the job done. Leave it for another day. Another day that had yet to come. It was avoidance and running, but as long as he got the job done, that meant he'd won against whatever was aiming at his heart.

But he couldn't do that here.

Anakin knew that simply turning around; grabbing his family and running would be admitting to Sidious that he was tempted. Running would also mean he'd never learn what Sidious was offering, because he _did_ want to know how to keep his precious, precious family alive. Any of them. But to get the job done, that meant fighting and killing Sidious. And _because_ he was tempted, he didn't want to. There was that vain hope that he could somehow take Sidious in and then just pump him for information.

But there wasn't time for that. Padme was in labor _now_. Even if labor usually lasted for hours, with someone like Sidious it would take days, weeks, _months_ to even get the tiniest sliver of information on anything.

There was a strong pulse of love along one of his bonds. He reached for it, grateful for the warmth it spread into his tense form, and was surprised to see that it had come from Padme. Wherever she was, whatever she knew of what was going on, she remembered some of what he'd explained to her about how a Jedi can feel things. And despite how awkward she always felt focusing on something without any sense of what it was doing, she was still taking the time in her difficult labor to send him all the love she could muster.

Ahsoka was waking up, awkwardly sending her love back to him, though with difficulty as she was still disoriented.

Obi-Wan, too, was sending his love back as well, though quietly so as not to distract Anakin. After all, the two of them knew how dangerous distractions were in battle.

Battle.

This all came back to battle.

Battle against Sidious. Battle against temptation. Battle against fear. Battle against loss.

The Jedi had been preparing for battle for so long. Lightsabers, defense classes, histories of war, strategy. A Jedi never sought battle, but they were prepared for when it happened.

And though Sidious was clearly good with a lightsaber, his weapon of choice for decades had been words. Something that Jedi were never truly prepared for.

Anakin's lightsaber dipped even further.

He had been fighting and fighting and fighting. Well fighting was getting nowhere.

He may be dooming Padme to die. And he would still be fighting temptation.

But if he was dead, then he wouldn't have to fight anymore.

Anakin turned and threw his lightsaber to his brother.

"Master...?" Ahsoka weakly coughed.

"_Anakin_!" Obi-Wan shouted.

But Anakin Skywalker turned to Sidious, feet apart, arms loosely at his side.

"You want me to Fall so badly?" he taunted. "I won't. I am a Jedi. Like my master before me, like my Padawan after me, like my _child_ will be. I will _never_ turn to the Darkside."

Because if he was dead he wouldn't turn.

Sidious frowned, his scarred face twisting into an even uglier scowling visage.

"Then, you will die."

"No!" his family shouted.

Lightening struck Anakin and he twisted and writhed. His nerves were on fire and freezing all at once, his brain incapable of handling the sensory overload it was receiving. He fell to the pod under him, bucking and flailing as his neurons reacted to electrical signals that weren't coming from his brain, shaking and shuddering and _screaming_ under the onslaught. He tried to close his bonds as much as he could as pain distracted a thought before it could even fully form. He didn't want his family to suffer this.

His family would carry on. They would hurt; they would grieve. His vision was clear on this. Obi-Wan would be in shambles. Padme would _die_. But he wouldn't turn. And he would spare them _that_ much at least.

Consciousness faded easily.

* * *

_"Anakin, this is not your time."_

_ He blinked, looking around confused. "What..."_

_ "That was very brave of you, and a good step in the right direction. But it is _not_ your time."_

_ Something surged in Anakin as he whirled around to a voice he hadn't heard in over ten years._

_ "_Qui-Gon_?"_

_ There stood the tall imposing Jedi with the bearded jaw line and thick graying hair half pulled back. There was an easy smile and a bright twinkle in his midnight blue eyes and Anakin couldn't stop running forward to hug the man who he considered a father, who'd saved him from slavery._

_ "Mister Qui-Gon!" he cried out, reverting to how he'd called him when he'd first met the large Jedi._

_ Qui-Gon gave a warm hug squeezing Anakin tightly and Anakin felt like a child once more, burying himself into the loving embrace of someone he cared about. He felt so much joy and relief it overwhelmed him. He was crying happy tears at seeing this man again, this giant Jedi who had turned his life upside-down and in the best possible way._

_ All his memories of Qui-Gon were clamoring for attention, of seeing the huge, yet gentle man coming into Watto's shop, of spying the lightsaber under the poncho, of talking around the table with Qui-Gon, Padme, his mother, Jar Jar, of the master's quiet belief in him when everyone else was worried at the Bonta Eve race, of watching him face off against that scary Sith creature in the blazing heat of Tatooine's suns and all the time spent with him in transit to Coruscant and later Naboo._

_ Quickly followed were all the memories Obi-Wan had of Qui-Gon, unwittingly seen when in the midst of an argument Anakin had done something completely unorthodox and impossible with the bond to show Obi-Wan that he _was_ important to him._

_ Anakin pulled back and slapped Qui-Gon's arm. "Qui-Gon! You owed Obi-Wan a lot of hugs!" But the joy at seeing him overrode his brief flash of anger as he buried himself into the hug again._

_ "I've _missed_ you," he mumbled. "Me and Obi-Wan both. You should have _seen_ Obi-Wan after you died. He was a mess. Not that I really realized it at the time. Waitaminute. That's right, you're _dead_! So how..."_

_ Qui-Gon chuckled, his large chest rumbling. "So many questions. You're much the same as when I first met you. Insatiably curious."_

_ Anakin pulled back to look around again. "So I'm dead, right?"_

_ Qui-Gon reached out and tapped a finger on Anakin's nose. "Not yet. Hopefully not for a long time. It's not your time yet, young one."_

_ Anakin pulled out of the hug entirely, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "And _what_ in the seven Correllian _hells_ am I supposed to do?"_

_ "You already know."_

_ "Bantha poodoo, I _don't_!"_

_ "You _do_, Anakin. You may not realize it. But you _do_. Now you'd best get back. My old Padawan is going to do something foolish if you don't. Your Padawan as well, given how much like you she is."_

_ "What..."_

* * *

He was still being electrocuted.

To say that that hurt would be something of an understatement.

He was still screaming. He was still twisting and flailing on the pod. Control was difficult, but Anakin reached for the Force. Along the bonds, he could feel Obi-Wan and Ahsoka both trying to crawl over to him, lightsabers ready to absorb the lightening. But that would just expose the two of them.

He looked over to the two of them and to his shock, he could see Qui-Gon standing behind them.

_There is no death, Anakin. Only the Force._

The one lesson that Anakin never really believed in. Yet proof stood before him.

So even if his loved ones died... They'd still be with him. He'd only have to reach to the Force to feel them. See them. Talk to them.

Suddenly, Sidious's offer to keep his family alive seemed completely pointless.

His bonds were beyond flooded with love. Both the love he'd been sending to his family, and the love they were sending to him. He grabbled all that love. Held it close to his heart. Letting it fill him with strength.

Somehow, he took a deep breath, focusing on all that Light and love. And as he drew from the Light, he felt Qui-Gon's love for him as well, a second son he was proud of.

Really, with all that love, standing wasn't a problem. Even as more lightning danced along his muscles and tendons and nerves, he didn't really feel it any more. He still jerked stiffly and he didn't have complete control of himself. But the Force was there and it was _filled_ with _love_.

Anakin would never be alone, because the Force wasn't darkness. It was love. Love could be twisted and knotted into darkness, but at it's core, it was still light.

"Anakin!"

"Master!"

_Ani!_

Anakin turned to Sidious, who was still laughing at something Anakin would _never_ understand.

With a leap, Anakin was on the same Senatorial pod as Sidious. His landing was ungraceful and more of a tumble, but then, his body was still jerking out of his control.

Sidious wasn't laughing anymore.

His face snarled in a horrible expression, but Anakin wasn't paying attention. He merely wrapped his arms around the Emperor as lightning seemed to pour anew into his already beaten and fried body. And when Anakin's feet jerked underneath him, he lost his footing, taking both himself and Sidious off the pod.

Lightning was sparking and flying everywhere as Sidious screamed. He reached out for anything, but Anakin held firm. They were too high up for anything to be in reach and with a small twist, Sidious was the one to hit the ground first.

_Anakin! Anakin!_

_ Master! Skyguy!_

_ Ani! Don't you dare die on me!_

Anakin's breathing was hitched and difficult. He rolled off of Sidious and Qui-Gon was crouching above him, smiling.

"Hugs... can save... the galaxy..." Anakin whispered.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Really Big Grin.

Gosh, where to start in talking about this finale...

We'll start with Anakin and whether or not he was supposed to turn. We've stated before that the original and sole purpose of this fic has been about fixing Mustafar. (We rather think we did a decent job with that...) When watching the movies, even though you knew that Anakin would Fall and Obi-Wan would have his lightsaber etc, etc, by the time you got to the end of Revenge of the Sith, you were left screaming "Nooooo!" And after having read many fanfics and having learned though them (and researching the Expanded Universe) just how _close_ Ani and Obi are supposed to be, we decided that Mustafar just couldn't happen.

However, as we did research and _really_ looked at the prophesy, it became clearer and clearer that Anakin actually needed to walk up to the Darkside in some way shape or form to create some sort of balance. As it stands, Anakin is firmly in the light, but darkness will always be with him and something he fights with. He has too many midi-chlorians to not feel both sides of the Force keenly. He may not sink into the Darkside as he does in canon, but he will always have it with him, striking a balance in that manner. Of course, the amount of time it took to figure _that_ out.

A lot of things fell into place when we realized Obi-Wan's place with Anakin as his sort of moral compass. Even in the original movies, Anakin often goes to Obi-Wan, in ways sometimes too subtle for Obi-Wan to notice, for advice. Palpatine laid out a trap to kill Obi-Wan (see: Utapau) but he ultimately needed to place doubt in Anakin's mind. If Anakin can't trust the one person he's always gone to, then all that's left is Palpatine. (Padme wasn't with Anakin while growing up, plus she's his place to go for passion, not advice.) Once we realized that the easiest way to fix that was to build the trust between Obi/Ani till it was unbreakable. Anakin knows and understand secrets, he's kept them for a long time, be it building a podracer under Watto's nose or his secret marriage, and he can't suspect a secret from someone he trusts because that would destroy that trust. Hence stronger bonds to remove any doubt.

Approaching the finale, the two of us also had quite a bit of debate on what Ahsoka's role would be. We knew that we wanted to include her, she's too cool a character to _not_ add into the story, but the question was how to use her. For set up and going up to the finale, she could be "child" for our little family, plus go-between for some of the intrigue that lies so thickly around the story. This gives her a nice fresh take. She an earnest youngling who can give us a way to explain some of the threads going on. But when coming to the end, we no longer had to do political maneuverings, so we were left wondering what to do. On some level, we knew she had to be part of the final battle, another casualty to push Anakin closer to the edge, but how to get her there without feeling forced was problematic.

Then we realized that, as Anakin's student, she'd be a damn god slicer. We had our little oh-duh moment and things flowed beautifully from there.

Of course, another thing we approached carefully was Padme and her "death". Clearly, we didn't want her to die, but that doesn't change the fact that the vision occurred. More research and more poking around and we both realized that a possible reason she died wasn't that Anakin choked her, or that she was broken-hearted, but because she couldn't survive the Darkside coming through a link with Anakin. Anakin loves her so much and needs reassurance that she loves him so desperately we don't see why he wouldn't create some sort of bond with her, much like the one he bore with Obi-Wan. In canon there wasn't time to develop it, but it would be something he could cling to. And once Anakin went Vader, the Darkside that he was drowning in dragged Padme down as well. Ergo, once Anakin chose Light for this story, her labor went easier and there was no more risk. (Though if Anakin died, who knows. Anakin's vision could be about his Fall. Or it could have been about his death. By this point, it's open to interpretation.)

And shame on you readers for not picking up on Qui-Gon in the last chapter. He was a HUGE hint for this chapter. ^_^

Next week: Epilogue for Christmas Eve.


	50. Where There's No End

**Where There's No End**

When the war started, Anakin wondered when it would ever end; when Order 66 happened he begged it would just finish; when he fought Sidious he was even desperate enough to end it himself in his attempt to make another option. Now, three weeks later, he was still avidly waiting for an end.

It had been _hours_ before the clones had figured out that their emperor was dead and allowed help - any kind of help - to arrive. By then Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had managed to do the impossible (Anakin admitted that he wasn't the only one to break that rule, he just did it more often than most) and crawled their way to his side to help him.

As Anakin understood it, those critical hours had cost them the most. Ahsoka was the only one to make a full recovery, her broken bones knitted together and treated. Obi-Wan had suffered extreme bone calcification from the lightning, but his worst injury had been the stabbing done by Anakin's own hand. Even with all the medical knowledge they had at their disposal, time was and always would be the most critical element of medicine, and Obi-Wan would never be able to use his arm fully again without great pain.

Anakin, too, did not leave without scars. There was the bone calcification, of course, the plethora of broken bones from the fall - even using Sidious to break the fall didn't keep that from happening - but the electrocution had also caused nerve damage, and that could never be repaired. It was ironic that his prosthetic arm - once the one limb he had the least control over - now had the most precision of his body.

Ahsoka reached up and straightened an invisible fold in his robe. Her hands were never far these days as she tried to do something, anything, to help with the tremors he would feel for the rest of his life. "Are you sure you don't want me on the podium with you?"

"No," Anakin said, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. His hand shook slightly as he lowered it. "Your best place is in the Senate with Padme and the twins. I really doubt anything will happen at this point, but it's better to be safe than sorry, and since you've agreed to be the Senate liaison, you'll have to get used to sitting there."

"But..." the Togrutan said slowly, looking uncertain as a shudder ran through Anakin's body.

"Trust me," he said, "No shakes during the speech."

"No doubt he's planning to redefine impossible again," Obi-Wan said softly, at the new Grandmaster's side as he always had been, as he always would be. "I'll politely hit him if he seems to be doing something self-destructive."

Ahsoka offered a soft smile, still eyeing the two men worriedly, before bowing and turning.

"Knight Tano," Yoda said, "Worry, you should not."

Still uncomfortable with being called a Knight, still uncertain if her work (or lack there of, as she put it) to aide Anakin counted as her trials, still on uncertain footing, she bowed out of respect and deference before disappearing to the Senatorial chamber.

Obi-Wan felt Anakin's concern and nodded. "She'll grow into it. We're all a little uncertain these days. Direction will help, especially with her. The better question is are you certain you want to address the Senate now?"

Anakin winced, a tremor passing through almost his entire body. Obi-Wan reached out to still him and he winced painfully as his shoulder throbbed. Anakin had to laugh. "We're a sight, aren't we?" he said.

"Yes," Yoda said, leaning on his gimmer stick. "A shame it is, that most cannot see."

Anakin looked down, frowning, wondering just what Yoda could see, but shook his head slightly and put it aside. That would have to wait. Mace was at the Temple per the new Grandmaster's instructions. The Korun Jedi, upon Yoda's nomination of Anakin to the position, had stared at him long and hard with his aloof glare before finally saying, "Perhaps it is for the best." The thought made Anakin sigh. He couldn't convert everyone.

_He, too, needs time to adjust._

_ I know, Master._

"Master Jedi," an assistant said, "It's time."

"I understand," Anakin answered, stepping up a little shakily onto the central spire that would lead to the Senatorial chamber, Obi-Wan and Yoda flanking him. There was a soft hum, and the podium began to rise. It was still so surreal; the last time Anakin had used this podium it was to get down to Sidious' office and confront him. Now it was an empty space - the position of Supreme Chancellor empty, the entire structure of the government in upheaval - but Anakin could not completely shake off the negative emotions that formally warm black and red room had held for him.

"Will I always be like this?" he whispered to Obi-Wan. "Vacillating?"

"Some lessons," his master answered, "Need to be learned over and over. Force knows how many times I've been made to learn about attachment; even now I keep discovering new little facets and shades."

"Because of what I did that day?"

"And because of many, many other things," Obi-Wan replied, smiling gently and radiating love and pride.

Anakin swelled, and it gave him the strength to look to the Senate with a calm façade. The chamber had been repaired quickly, all things considered, gone were the destroyed pods and smoky trails, gone was the horrible bloodstain at the very bottom of the room.

"The Senate will now hear from Jedi Grandmaster: Anakin Skywalker."

Anakin's eyes and senses immediately locked onto Padme and Ahsoka, each holding one of the twins - _twins!_ - and he could feel Padme smile just for him. He offered a smirk of his own, sending her a very naughty picture, and more than enjoyed her flushed reaction in his mind. Her birth had been difficult, Jar Jar was filling her role as Senator for now while she recovered, but she utterly refused to not be a part of this meeting. Even now, he could feel her steadfast determination to be there for her husband. Anakin smiled and sent a strong pulse of love, and in response he felt her flush and lean back in her seat, smiling and thinking she knew why.

_You'll make her Force-sensitive yet, it seems._

Anakin smirked and looked up around the massive chamber. He asked a quite, _We're broadcasting, right?_

_ After asking Ahsoka to ensure it? I'd be surprised if we weren't._

Nodding, Anakin took a deep breath.

"To the Jedi who were able to scatter and hide," he said, "I'm sure by now you've figured out that the Sith master Sidious is dead. What you might not know is that the Temple is safe; you can come back. Master Windu is there now, contact him and let him know you're coming home. If you come home, you and the rest of the Jedi, what's left of us, can work together to come to terms with what's happened. It's not an easy task: we've been betrayed by the Senate and suffered genocide, we've watched - and worse, _felt_ - our entire family be slaughtered; devastation like that causes a lot of negative emotions: anger, confusion, fear, hatred, uncertainty. Together, I would like it if we all could wade through it and find some level of peace.

"If you're too angry to come back, I, we, understand. But I want you to know that you are walking a very, very, dangerous path. And if you fall, then, we'll likely meet again."

A tremor started in his wrist. He called on the Force and demanded it be silent. He would pay for it later, but he needed to look strong.

Obi-Wan sent him strength, as did Padme and Ahsoka.

"To the Senate," Anakin continued, his eyes once more sweeping over the conglomerate. "You're all a bunch of poodoo sucking womp rats."

As he expected, the entire room exploded into noise. He could feel Obi-Wan mentally put his head in his hands as Padme, invisible in the crowd, did the same. Ahsoka he could sense snort and offer a _Go gett'em, Master!_

He waited, fighting off more tremors, before the chamber settled into anything resembling quiet.

Anakin's voice turned hard. "I take if from your reaction that you might be somehow surprised by the accusation," he said. More than a few people started to articulate on that point, but Anakin pointedly ignored them. "In light of that, let me clarify a few things." Then he waited, but there even after seven minutes the crowd was still roaring and protesting; and while Anakin was willing to tentatively admit that he'd learn some patience, he knew himself to know that it would never be natural, and so he decided to _make_ them be quiet.

With a touch of the Force, the entire room _rattled_.

Silence befell the chamber.

"As I was saying," Anakin said, his voice firm and almost cold. He mentally asked for more strength from the Force as another tremor started to sweep over him. "I'm a little surprised that all of _you_ are surprised. After all, almost every single one of you is only here because you openly campaigned support of Palpatine - oh, excuse me, Sith Lord Sidious - and happily, even eagerly, voted for every one of his executive powers. All forms of government regulations were revoked - from banks to health care to housing to education - and as a result capitalists raked in mountains of money, billions of people were evicted from their homes, and children were suddenly crammed into classes of forty or fifty with only one underpaid teacher to do the job. You revoked freedom after freedom in the name of security so that you could push whatever agenda you or Sidious had hidden under your hat. You blocked people asking for honest change, blocking them through filibuster, threat, intimidation, or out and out attempted murder. As if all of that wasn't bad enough, as if your complicacy isn't the end of it, you all openly sanctioned Order Sixty-Six: the genocide of the Jedi."

He glared at them hard, Obi-Wan and Master Yoda doing the same.

He offered a cold smile as the information sunk in. "I suppose you should know that all that information, all that wonderfully _documented_ information, is being given to the press as we speak."

As the reaction to _that_ little tidbit of information exploded throughout the Senate, Anakin took the moment to send his thanks, again, to Padme and Obi-Wan; his wife, for giving him the information necessary, and Obi-Wan for outlining how to maximize the effect. The Senate had thought that this was going to be a pep talk, the new Jedi Grandmaster offering a few platitudes and humbly giving support to the socio-political machine as it talked itself back into complacency.

That was what they thought. That was not what he had planned.

"I should also announce," Anakin added over the din, his voice immediately quieting the chamber as they waited for another shoe to drop, "That because there are so kirffing few Jedi out there right now, that we are closing our doors to Senatorial requests."

He let the Senate explode with that and instead turn his eyes to Padme and Ahsoka, nodding slightly. A camera floated down and Anakin looked at it.

"While they're whining, I have something to say to the people of the galaxy," he said to the camera. "We may be closing our doors to the idiots who betrayed us, but we are not closing our doors to the people of the galaxy who need us. If you have a request or a need of a Jedi, don't bother going to the Senate - they'll try to swindle you at any rate - instead come to us directly. The one to contact will be Jedi Master Yoda." Obi-Wan gave him a soft mental nudge, and Anakin looked down, frowning, before looking back to the camera, trying to look earnest and maybe a little worried. "I should probably mention," he added, "That it might take a while. There aren't exactly a lot of us..."

_Stop there, keep it simple. The worst thing to do is overplay your hand._

_ Got it Master. Back to the idiots._

_ Be nice, Master, Padme's one of those "idiots."_

_ She knows I don't mean her._

The camera floated away, and Anakin leaned back and waited for the noise to die down.

"Bold, your moves are," Yoda said slowly. "Changes, this will bring."

"Change is necessary, Master," Anakin said softly. "Change can be violent, will be because of all the damage Sidious did, but with any luck those changes will all be positive."

They had to be. For his children's sake.

When something resembling quiet - at least enough that Anakin could speak again - finally settled, the grandmaster started, "In some ways," he said to the Senate, "You're going to get off lucky. Jedi don't take revenge, and frankly we have our hands full mourning the thousands of infants, children, initiates, Padawans, knights, masters, and Council members you've killed and releasing our emotions to the Force. But don't think you're completely in the clear, because the Will of the Force can do some very mysterious things. You've made your beds, and I hope you have fun lying in them.

"To the Confederacy of Independent Systems: the Republic is a mess. You have a choice now, system for system: you can rejoin the Republic and help the tiny handful of Senators who are trying to fix things, or you can stay in the Confederacy. I can't speak for the Senate, but I _can_ say that the Jedi will take no part in that conflict - and neither will our clones."

Another uproar in the Senate.

"Oh," Anakin said, "Did you forget about that? That the clone army was placed under the Jedi command because it was viewed back in the day that we were the only ones with the experience in combat to lead them? Without Sidious giving commands and with the power vacuum you all have created because of your vying for who will be next Supreme Chancellor, a few wonderfully legal documents place the Clone Army in Jedi hands, and since you trusted us to lead them, we've decided to ask them what they wanted to do, and they said all they needed were orders. So, very simply, we ordered them to more humanitarian tasks. They're going to be field medics and construction workers and farmers and teachers to any who want them, Republic or CIS. Jedi Master Kenobi will field requests for them.

"To the people of the galaxy," Anakin said, "You've suffered just as much as we Jedi have. Your angry and frustrated and desperate for change. Now is the time to try and bring it out; believe it or not, there actually are a few Senators in this collection of womp-rats who have the best interests of the galaxy at heart. Look up the Delegation of Two Thousand and ask them what you can do, I'm sure they'll be more than happy to give you the chance to make changes."

_Master, Bail and Mon are about to have heart attacks, and this is even after Padme told them this was coming._

_ I know,_ Anakin replied, _but the only way this Senate is going to fix itself is if there's a huge turnover, and giving them the Rebels is the best way to do it._

_ Don't call them Rebels, Anakin, that's not a positive term._

_ Speak for yourself, Obi-Wan. _I'm_ a rebel, aren't I?_

Obi-Wan sighed.

"And finally, to the Senate," Anakin said, another tremor trying to shudder through him. He had held off too many - he could delay them but he couldn't stop the tremors, once this was over they were all going to hit him at once, and he was going to be in agony when this was over. His family just kept giving him strength. "I only have one humble piece of advice: Fix yourselves. If you can't figure out where you went wrong you're too stupid to be here; if you think you can get away with it then you have all that leaked information, the honest Senators, and the galaxy to answer to. If you think a few platitudes will save you then by all means try and see how long you last. But one thing is more than clear: there needs to be change."

He bowed. "Thank you for allowing me the time to address you. I'm certain you have more than enough work to do, so I'll be taking my leave - for a good six months. Any questions or need for clarification will not be answered by me because my family and myself won't be here, so you can forward them to Jedi Knight Ahsoka Tano."

The podium lowered, and all three Jedi masters - even Yoda - gave a small sigh of relief. Anakin's shaking hit him full force, and he all but stumbled to a chair, pain filling his joints as he lost complete control of his body.

"Honestly, only you would use the Force so recklessly," Obi-Wan said, reaching out with his good arm and touching his brother's head, pulling out the pain and releasing it to the Force.

"On the up side," Anakin said through chattering teeth, "At least I'm not on a respirator. I don't know that I could control my lungs like I do the rest of me."

"I say again: reckless."

* * *

Six months later Anakin was playing with little Leia on his lap, her face alight in happy delight. The Naboo Lake Country spread out before him.

Obi-Wan walked in, Luke in his arms and what looked vaguely like a put upon frown on his face. "You do this on purpose," he said by way of greeting.

Anakin smiled, a little too bright and a little too innocent for it to be real. "I have no idea what you're talking about. _I_ can't help it if I can't play with both of them at once when everyone and their brother is asking for my help. And if Padme is taking another nap, then with Ahsoka out on Coruscant of _course_ one of them is going to fall to you. You don't think I'd trust him with Threepio, do you?"

"And the fact that it's always Luke?" he said, an eyebrow raised. He shifted said baby from one arm to the other, forgetting the reduced strength and frowning when he had to switch back.

"That isn't me at all," Anakin said brightly, Leia reaching up and trying to tug at his collar, giggling madly. "Luke's the one that's taken a fancy to you."

"You love this," Obi-Wan accused.

"I love everything Obi-Wan, I thought you knew that."

The comment sent a thoughtful crease on Obi-Wan's forehead, and Anakin could hear Obi-Wan reliving memories across their bond, old worries that all that love would turn to hate and the pain involved of when it didn't. The Jedi master sat down in a heavily cushioned chair and looked out over the expansive lake. "I see why you always spoke of the Lake Country of Naboo so fondly. It is beautiful here."

Anakin leaned back in his own chair, swinging it around to face the breathtaking scenery. Leia was still tugging for his attention; she was a stubborn baby in that respect, and so Anakin looked down and tickled her incessantly. That would keep her occupied for a few minutes. "I'm going to hate leaving here," he said slowly. He could feel Obi-Wan's own regret over the bond.

"It can't be helped," his brother said.

"I was hoping to get at least another two months out of this. By then Padme would be back up to full strength and things could be... I don't think easier is the right word, but..."

"I saw the medics this morning. How is she?"

"She's made a full recovery like Ahsoka did," Anakin said, relief filling him once again as he remembered the good news. The birth of the twins had been difficult to the extreme for Padme, and she had Anakin's tumultuous emotions, and their fight with Sidious to compound problems. He'd spent several days in a near panic when he'd learned of her weakened condition, that it was "touch and go," and that people were "hoping for the best." She frequently needed naps and had little stamina after something as simple as nursing the babies. She was getting better however, and Anakin couldn't help but feel relief. There is no death; there is the Force - that may have been true but Anakin didn't particularly want to apply that to Padme just yet. He didn't think he could have emotionally handled it after everything else that could happen.

For a long time, the two of them watched the lake, ripples spreading from one end of the lake to the other.

Not long enough, however, before the communicator went off.

Anakin cursed.

"Really, Anakin, in front of the children?"

"There's always something with you, isn't there?"

"Of course," Obi-Wan replied with a grin, "It's only fair since you constantly sic your son on me."

"I repeat: not my fault."

"_Master, it's always your fault._"

"Ahsoka!" Anakin said with a bright grin when he turned on the primitive screen he had personally wired to take satellite communications into the boondocks of Lake Country. "How're things on Coruscant?"

"_Everyone's desperate to know when the 'Beloved Hero' is going to return to public spotlight,_" the Togrutan said with a roll of her eyes. She leaned forward to the view screen and propped a hand on her chin. "_All the Kowakian monkey-lizard politicians from Palpatine's supermajority are still in office; Mon Mothma's subcommittee on routing out the corrupt is having more than a few difficulties, and some of the members have even been attacked. Most of my work as Jedi representative has been focused there._"

"I see life hasn't yet become boring on Coruscant," Obi-Wan said lightly. Anakin saw him fiddling with Luke and Anakin knew that for all his complaints that the two of them more than enjoyed each other's company.

"_Oh, is Master Obi-Wan with you?_" Ahsoka asked, trying to peer further on the screen. Anakin grinned and turned the monitor's camera. "_They've been asking for you as well - at least Bail is, and him I trust._"

"How is he?" Obi-Wan asked, putting Luke down and lifting himself out of the chair enough to edge it over to get a better view.

"_They finally decided to elect him as, er, they haven't decided on a title yet, but basically he's the new Supreme Chancellor, emperor, leader, voice of reason, take your pick._"

"And so we swing from one extreme to another," Obi-Wan sighed. "At least they made a good choice on that score."

Ahsoka made a face. "_They really didn't have much choice when Anakin said, 'Fix the problem or face me,' and then made the whole Senate rattle. I think most of the argument was on why Anakin didn't just take over to begin with. That and all the monkey-lizards trying to jockey for position and being blocked by Mon's flood of, er, they've been calling themselves the Rebels._"

"I told you it was a great name," Anakin said, eyeing Obi-Wan with a grin. He turned back to Ahsoka. "You're little public service announcement really stirred up the people. There have been floods of citizens that want things to change volunteering to do something, anything. The galaxy has turned into a giant Naboo."

"Don't let Padme hear you say that," Obi-Wan said lightly.

"Too late for that," a soft voice said. Anakin's smile might well have lit up the sun as he stood up - a little shakily as one of his legs was suffering from tremors - and walked over to wrap his beautiful wife into an awkward hug. Leia fussed, but decided she wanted her mother more and reached up. Padme took her and the three walked back to Anakin's desk.

"Are you okay?" Anakin asked, already sensing his wife's annoyance but needing to ask anyway.

"I'm fine," Padme replied, only half her attention on her husband as she gave the rest to their daughter. "Is Luke still fumbling for his uncle?"

"Yes," Anakin replied brightly before Obi-Wan could reply, adding, "and they're both very 'put out' by it. At least that's what they proclaim when they aren't planning secret rendezvous."

"Anakin!"

"Yes? Master?"

"_Are you still being flooded with calls begging for help?"_ Ahsoka asked, a smile on her face as she surveyed the familial scene.

Anakin made a face. "Yes," he said in a flat voice. "I feel guilty for turning them down all the time, but if there's one things I've learned after everything that's happened is that people - even Jedi - need time to heal; emotionally as well as physically. Some people," he gave unveiled glances to a certain brother and wife, "are so wrapped up in their work they forget that sometimes."

"_Like you're any better?_" Ahsoka asked, a wry grin and a skeptical eyebrow vying for position on her face. "_Frankly I can't believe you've managed to stay in one place for so long._"

Anakin sighed but leaned back in his chair. "If I had my way I'd take up permanent residence here. This would be a great place to raise Jedi. There's a lot of Living Force here; it's close enough to Coruscant that they can call and beg for help, and far enough away that we can take the time to fix our own problems."

Padme looked up from her ministrations with Leia. "Then you were serious? When you said you didn't want the Jedi to be affiliated with the Senate?"

"_Oh, yes,_" Ahsoka said, leaning away from the screen and adjusting her sitting position. "_The Senate is still having random conniptions about not having Jedi in their pockets anymore to whip out at the slightest notice. Mace will burn my ears off at any opportunity to tell me how stupid our new Grandmaster is for making that decision. I smile and nod as best I can, but I think I agree with him. There are so few of us left we can't take on major projects or battle - and that's what the Senate really wants us for, Bail and his ilk aside. The Jedi, what's left of us, need more time to heal than anyone else. That reminds me,_" she added, looking back to Anakin, "_Three more came back to the Temple last week, all Padawans. They're very angry; very upset. I'm not the expert you and Master Obi-Wan are, but one of them is having a really hard time dealing with all the loss. I can feel darkness around him._"

Anakin frowned, but nodded. "I guess Yoda has his work cut out for him."

" 'Master' Yoda," Obi-Wan corrected, his face turned away as he watched Luke play on the floor. "He gave you the title of Grandmaster, I think you owe him at least that much respect."

"Respect is earned, 'Master,' and that takes time," Anakin sniffed, annoyed that that particular topic was still being brought up.

"_Have you decided when you're coming back?_" Ahsoka asked, her tone tentative.

"In a week or two," Anakin replied, sighing. "I really want to put it off more, but if those 'Kowakian monkey-lizards' as you so aptly named them are still causing trouble and attacking people, then I guess the move back to Coruscant is sadly pushed up on the priority list."

Ahsoka smiled. "_If nothing else, Master, it will make running the Jedi a little easier. At least you'll be called a lot less._"

"Oh, yes," Anakin said with great aplomb, "Instead I'll be stuck in meetings all day instead of playing with my kids."

"Says the man who made it clear that no one calls him in the evening hours," said Padme with a devilish smile on her face. "I'm most certain it won't continue at all, oh no; not for a man so desperate to say in one place."

Anakin pouted. "And what does that mean?" he asked.

"That you've been itching to be in motion," Obi-Wan supplied. "Who was it that wanted to visit every star in the galaxy? Who was more than happy to go gallivanting out on some damn-fool idealistic crusade and drag me along for the ride? Who keeps taking those calls in spite of his very protests and fights the urge to get up and run to be of service? Who's the new Grandmaster of the Jedi and isn't even a quarter of a century old?"

Anakin openly snorted. "And who's already planning on training the younglings in Form III even though he doesn't have full range of motion in one arm?" He turned to Padme. "And who's been having extended calls with Bail and Mon and all the rest when she thinks I'm not looking?"

"_You mean I've been doing all this work as acting Jedi liaison and consultant for the Senate and Padme's already been keeping you in the loop? MASTER!"_

"I never said she was, Snips," Anakin said in bright official tones, "She just thought I didn't know."

Padme humphed. "Jedi mind tricks," she muttered.

"And you wouldn't have it any other way, angel."

"_Well, anyway, I'll let Master Yoda and the others know you're vacation is almost over. I know Master Windu has a lot to say to you. I'll talk to you later in the week._" She gave a cheerful wave as she signed off.

"Change, dramatic or otherwise, will always cause resistance to those set in their ways," Obi-Wan muttered.

"It was our stagnation that lead to Order Sixty-Six," Anakin replied, looking ahead to the coming arguments when they moved back to Coruscant. "We have to change to survive. Yoda recognized that, that's why he made me Grandmaster. Everyone else will just have to fall in line."

Conversation trailed off as all three looked to little Luke, who had stopped playing on the floor and was balancing on his hands and knees with a look of determination on his face. In Anakin's mind, he could sense the child reaching for Obi-Wan, and said Jedi master kept himself open as one child-sized hand reached forward and fell to the floor, shifting his weight forward.

Luke was still reaching through the Force to Obi-Wan, though his eyes were focused on his limbs as he tried to bring another hand forward and lost his balance. He got up on all fours again, putting one hand forward as he had before. With intense concentration he moved a knee forward and when he didn't tumble, he tried for his other hand again.

Slowly, as he worked out what needed to move when, Luke started to crawl for the first time, unsteadily at first, making a direct line straight to Obi-Wan. Every time he looked up, he lost what he was doing with his limbs and fell, but Obi-Wan just smiled, keeping himself open to Luke's determination and offering a welcoming smile.

All of them, Anakin, Padme, Obi-Wan, and even little Leia watched in great anticipation as Luke put one limb in front of the other, and they all cheered as Luke finally crawled into Obi-Wan's lap.

He picked the child up, smiling and sending warm feelings of pride and affection, just as Anakin was doing.

Not one to be outdone, Leia gave a small grumble before clambering out of Padme's arms and starting her own determined attempts to crawl to Anakin.

Padme let out an "Awwwww," as Leia picked up crawling faster than Luke (no doubt getting help from her brother as Anakin sensed their bond pulsing...) and happily received much praise from her beloved father. Anakin flooded everyone in the room with his love, and they could only smile in response.

The five turned back to the lake, watching it's beautiful ripples of water caress the surrounding mountains as Leia once more tugged at his collar. Anakin's mind wandered back to the idea of a second Temple here, just for the younglings maybe. Or maybe the older Jedi.

A place to learn about family.

**End**

* * *

**Author's Notes**: We're done! We're doooooone! (dies) Guaaaaaah, we're doooone...

Whew, what to say now that it's over. This fic was started over the idea or rewriting Mustafar. Many a fic did that, but the more we talked about it, the more we realized that by the time Mustafar happens, the Ani-Obi relaltionship is damaged beyond repair, and we realized for it to work there needed to be changes before the battle of Mustafar. When we start thinking that, well, things started to snowball.

We broke a lot of personal rules with this fic.

When we write there tends to be something of a formula: inspiration of an idea, lots and lots of discussion that leads to more ideas, draft an outline, write. One of the first rules we broke is that we didn't have an outline for this fic. It's not the first time we've broken this rule - if an idea strikes us hard enough, and we have a really strong understanding of the feeling that's supposed to be conveyed we can let the inspiration carry and a pretty good fic will churn out. A good example of this is the Holic/Detective Conan fic Price of Truth that we wrote. Sometimes we'll get really far, however, and then just fizzle, our ideas being exhausted and leaving us struggling to finish the fic. Our other Star Wars fic, currently Untitled, suffered this fate and there's a certain lack of quality in it that makes us feel it's below our standards.

This fic falls somewhere in between; mainly because of the second rule we broke.

Every story we've ever written was written in sequential order - with or without an outline. We started at the beginning and finished at the end. This is the first fic ever, _ever_, to break that rule. We wrote the drabbles/ficklettes/scenes/whatever the heck you've been calling these chapters as the inspiration struck us. Sometimes we were both writing at once, one on the computer and the other scribbling on a notebook.

The mental strain of this was ridiculous. For example, I wrote the Cody chapter, Obi-Wan learning about the Tuskens, Ani learning about Obi-Wan's petitions, and then finished the Munnilnst chapter in that order. I had to go from the Ani-Obi super bond and then backtrack to the Ani-Obi strong bond and then back. Rearranging the thought patterns for back and forth was a pain, and furthermore the result was that sometimes one of us would write a chapter and not be entirely sure where to put it or realizing that no, no, we're _still_ not done with the Clone Wars because we need _another_ scene _here_ and _here_ to explain how things go from _this_ to _that_ and we both feel like pulling at our hair. The Clone Wars arc suffered from this the most.

By the time we his the third arc, ROTS, we stopped wholesale and said "enough is enough, we need to do this chronologically." Especially since we still weren't completely sure how the ending was going to turn out. We wrote the last arc in stages, outline say four or five scenes, write them, then outline the next bunch. That actually worked out to our benefit, taking the time to stage the sequences more carefully led, we feel, to a much richer experience in the ending. The build up of Anakin Falling or not worked really well, too, at least we think it did now that we're done with it. We were both crying with respective scenes that we wrote and hopefully you all did, too

Happy Holidays to all our readers who have supported us throughout this story. You are all awesome.

We'll be taking January off, then we'll start posting All But Name again.


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